


fire for a heart

by alnima



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: (sorry), Alternate Universe - High School, American Football, Everyone is 18!!!!!!!!, Fluff, Football Player Louis, Lighter than Light Angst, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Pining, The quickest reference to Harry/Nick in true blink and you miss it fashion, teenagers in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:33:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4467263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Then how come I’ve never noticed him before?” Louis asks, because he knows everyone. Or well, he knows most everyone. That’s his thing. He knows people. That doesn’t mean he’s friends with them or that he likes them all – or that they like him – but still. Zayn somehow slipped under his radar and he doesn’t understand how. Zayn is—Louis would have noticed him.</p><p>“He’s shy. He’s not really concerned about being known,” Liam says, like that’s an explanation for it. And maybe it is. Maybe not everyone wants the world to know their name like Louis does. “And why are you so concerned about him? Do you like him or something?”</p><p>“I don’t even know him, Liam, don’t be ridiculous.”</p><p>Or the one where Louis is on the football team, Zayn is in yearbook, and they make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fire for a heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wearestarshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearestarshine/gifts).



> wearestarshine, I rewrote this fic about 348 times, so I truly hope you enjoy this! <3 
> 
> Everyone in this fic is 18 years old, despite age differences in real life. This fic is set in America because I have absolutely no idea how any other educational system operates. That being said, I only know how my high school operated, so this is set to that. Honestly, the second I was handed my diploma I deleted every memory I had of the place, so who knows what I actually remember. OH! And please take all football information with a grain of salt - a ton of salt. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Jen, for cleaning this up and making it pretty, for being super encouraging despite this not being your pairing, and for not panicking too much when I didn't panic. And for soothing all of my worries, you're the bestest. :*
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone. This work is my own and it is not featured on any other site, nor does anyone have my permission to repost it in its entirety. Recs are fine, links are fine, but copying and pasting is not fine. Thank you!!!**

Louis drops down on the bench with a groan, pulling his helmet off his head and grabbing the water bottle next to him. There’s sweat rolling down from his hairline to his neck. He’s hot and tired, ready to call it a day and go home for the night. Unfortunately, there’s still twenty more minutes left of practice, which means Louis has twenty more minutes left of torture.

Pure. Agonizing. Torture.

Well… it’s not that bad. And if Louis weren’t so hot and so tired then he’d admit that the practices are worth it. As it stands, they’re winning more than they’re losing and coach wants to keep it that way. Still, Louis is nothing more than a kicker, so he thinks that running laps around the track isn’t necessarily required to be able to make a field goal.

Louis is beginning to wonder if he can get away with hiding out for the rest of the practice when he notices him, the guy with the camera. He’s standing at the sidelines, black device pressed to his face as he takes shots of practice. Huh. Louis hadn’t noticed him before.

Tossing his helmet down on the bench, Louis moves towards him. It’s almost the perfect excuse, ignoring bits of practice to introduce himself to their company. Coach will understand, hopefully.

“Have you gotten anything good?” Louis asks, startling the boy. He pulls his camera away slowly and turns to look at Louis almost cautiously, like he’s worried about what’s going to happen now that he’s been spotted.

“I won’t know until I get them on the computer.”

“Right, but like, you could check them out now. If you really wanted to.”

“I guess,” the guy mumbles, shrugging. “I’d rather wait.”

Louis nods because whatever. The artsy kids are hard to understand and Louis doesn’t really care to try and figure out the logic behind waiting when you can look at the image instantly, just as quickly as you can press the button to take the actual picture. It must be an artist thing, he thinks. Louis doesn’t do art. He plays football. That’s his specialty.

“So what are these for, like, your private collection? Or what?”

The guy scrunches his nose in distaste and shakes his head. “It’s for yearbook…and the newspaper. It depends on which of them decides to use the image.”

“Are they writing an article about us?” The guy scoffs as he raises his camera once more, the shutter clicking as he presses his finger down. “I didn’t think it was a dumb question,” Louis mutters, folding his arms over his chest defensively. He wanted to escape practice; he didn’t want to be made to feel like an idiot.

“It’s football and we’re in high school, of course they’re writing an article on it. They have one in the newspaper every week.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that. I’ve never read it.”

“Well, maybe you should. You might find something interesting in it,” the guy says, lowering his camera and moving to shove it in his bag.

As he starts to pack his things up Louis finally takes a moment to really look at him. And besides being one of the hottest guys that goes to their school, in Louis’ opinion, he’s dressed completely wrong for someone spending their afternoon out on the football field. He’s wearing black jeans with a matching jacket, a flannel under that, unbuttoned to expose a white shirt. It’s too many layers, even if he’s only standing around and taking pictures. And he’s got boots on, the leather kind that Louis knows make your feet sweat.

“I’m Louis.”

The kid looks up at him and nods, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Yeah, I know who you are. Most people do, actually.”

“Right. Yeah. The typical reply to that is usually your own name. That’s kind of how introductions work. I’m sure you’ve done a couple in your time.”

“Why do you care who I am?”

“Because you’re here. Because I’m talking to you. I don’t know,” Louis says, because what does it matter? It’s not like he’s going to sell the guy’s identity on the Internet to pay for his way through college. He just wants to know his name because—well, because he’s human and that’s just how humans are, unfortunately for this guy. “I just want to know your name. I’m not asking for like…your bank info or whatever.”

The guy sighs, wetting his lip. His eyes are squinted as he stares out at the field, jaw set. Louis wonders what happens when someone says something actually angering to the kid.

“Zayn. My name’s Zayn.”

“See? That wasn’t difficult,” Louis teases. He can hear the rest of the team finishing up practice, coach shouting some final words at them. He’s surprised that he’s made it this long without getting screamed at and forced to run more laps. “Are you going to be around a lot, Zayn?”

“I don’t know. It depends, I guess.”

“Well, if you’re taking pictures of the team then you’ll be at the game on Friday, right? At the very least.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to take pictures of the games. But like, I probably won’t be at every practice,” Zayn says, shoving his arm into the other strap of his bag. “Only so many pictures you can take at something like this.”

“No, that’s not really true. I mean there’s offense and defense. Those would be two different kinds of pictures,” Louis says, waving his arm around in the vague direction of the other players. “And you could focus on the different players. I’m sure you’ll need pictures of Liam, he’s the quarterback.”

“Yeah, everyone knows that, though. He’s Liam.”

Louis has to fight against making a face. He’s Louis. He’s the kicker. He’s just as important as any other player on the team, including Liam Payne.

“Well, hopefully you’ll come up with something else to shoot,” Louis says and Zayn nods. Louis can tell that he wants to leave, judging by the way he’s kicking at the grass and avoiding eye contact with Louis. Louis isn’t going to take it personal, he must be hot and tired and ready to go home like the rest of them. “Anyway, I gotta go help them get the equipment so I guess I’ll see you later.”

Zayn nods and offers him a wave before he turns to leave, moving across the field for the parking lot. Louis watches him for another minute before he heads back to help his team.

+++

“So what were you talking to Zayn about?” Liam asks. He waits until they’re safely inside of Louis’ car, bags thrown in the backseat and on their way home. It’s not like Louis is really surprised that Liam is asking; he’s more surprised that he knows who Zayn is. It’s usually Louis who knows everyone, not the other way around.

“I wanted to know why he was taking pictures of practice.”

“It’s probably for the newspaper. They always run images of us,” Liam says, staring out of the window. And like, does everyone know that besides Louis? Honestly, he’s been going there for four years, maybe he should pick up a copy or something. “They had a really great article in there last week about our game.”

“How is it that everyone knew that but me?”

Liam laughs at that, turning to look at Louis with a grin. “You’re just not paying attention. I only read it because Zayn writes for it sometimes and takes the pictures.”

“So you’re friends with Zayn?”

“Kind of. Harry’s better friends with him than I am, but we talk. I’ve got a couple classes with him,” Liam explains. “Why?”

“I just had no idea who he was. I thought… I don’t know, maybe he was a new student or something.”

Liam sighs and shakes his head at that, turning back to look out of the window once more. “Oh, Louis. No, he’s gone to school with us for years.”

“Then how come I’ve never noticed him before?” Louis asks, because he knows everyone. Or well, he knows most everyone. That’s his thing. He knows people. That doesn’t mean he’s friends with them or that he likes them all – or that they like him – but still. Zayn somehow slipped under his radar and he doesn’t understand how. Zayn is—Louis would have noticed him.

“He’s shy. He’s not really concerned about being known,” Liam says, like that’s an explanation for it. And maybe it is. Maybe not everyone wants the world to know their name like Louis does. “And why are you so concerned about him? Do you like him or something?”

“I don’t even know him, Liam, don’t be ridiculous.”

Liam snorts and Louis rolls his eyes.

“Since when has knowing someone ever stopped you?”

“Alright listen,” Louis says, gripping onto the steering wheel a little tighter. They had agreed that they were never going to talk about that time again. “I was drunk and you can hardly blame me for that.”

“You’re just lucky that you’re too young to get married, otherwise your life would be over,” Liam laughs and Louis turns to glare at him. “There’s not even a place to elope in town. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. I was drunk,” Louis says again, this time louder in case Liam didn’t hear it the first three hundred times. “And we’re not talking about this. I don’t want to hear anymore about it.”

“Would you have taken his last name? Or would he take yours?”

“Do you want me to throw you from this vehicle? Because I could. I’ll get on one of the back roads and toss you on your ass while we’re moving if you don’t stop.”

Liam’s only response is a barking laughing as he bends over in his seat, arms wrapped around his stomach. Louis shakes his head and turns the radio on, turning the volume up to drown out of the sounds of his friend.

+++

It’s nearly ten in the evening when Louis finally finishes his homework. Well, when he gets everything done that he can. Some of it he’s going to work on in his morning classes, but for now he’s done. He’s tired and he wants to lie in bed and pretend that he doesn’t need to shower and he still needs to run downstairs and eat the dinner that his mother called him down for nearly three hours ago. But for now… for now he’s going to lie in bed.

Louis pulls out his phone and checks his messages. There’s nothing urgent, a few from Niall, one from Liam, and another from his mom telling him to come down for dinner. He sighs as he closes out of them, choosing to check Facebook instead of replying.

As he’s scrolling down his feed he starts thinking about practice, his mind drifting to Zayn. There’s no mention of him on his feed, not like he thought there would be, but Louis wonders how many of his Facebook friends know about the other boy.

Without Zayn’s last name, Louis heads over to Harry’s page and searches through his friends. It takes a couple minutes, because it seems like Harry is friends with everyone in the school – and then some- before he finds Zayn.

Zayn Malik.

His profile picture is some obscure image that Louis doesn’t recognize, a mass covered in horizontal grainy lines. It’s not until he clicks on the picture to make it larger that he realizes it’s a picture of Zayn with the worst filter he’s ever seen. It’s just awful, truly one of the worst that Louis has ever seen.

After several minutes of futilely trying to go through Zayn’s page, Louis gives up. It’s set to private and the most Louis can see is his name and picture.

Louis sighs as he closes out of the app, tossing his phone down on the end of the bed. He’s not even sure what he was looking for, but he feels annoyed that he didn’t find it.

+++

The library is the worst place in the entire school, in Louis’ opinion. Not the worst, but definitely top five. After thirteen years of school he still doesn’t know how to navigate his way around it. Maybe no one does beside the librarian. The numbering system doesn’t make any sense, at least when it comes to the non-fiction section.

Louis continues to navigate his way through the stacks, focusing so intently on the booksthat he doesn’t see the person bent over, digging a book out of the bottom shelf until he slams into him. Louis is already muttering apologies before he can properly straighten and he nearly drops his folders in shock.

“Zayn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

Zayn waves him off, clutching the book to his chest. “It’s fine, was an accident.”

“Right. Of course,” Louis mutters, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “So how did your pictures come out? Were they any good?”

“Yeah, a few of them,” he says and he looks shocked that Louis would ask him that, like he wasn’t really expecting Louis to remember that they talked just the day before. “Most of them are kind of blurry. It’s been a while since I’ve taken pictures of a moving target.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it again.”

“Maybe.”

“You could come to practice tonight and you know…practice, if you wanted to work on it.”

“I could try. Maybe. I’ve got a few other things that I have to do,” Zayn says, and Louis nods.

“Right. Yeah. I understand that.” He’s familiar with rejection, if that’s what Zayn’s trying to do. He appreciates the soft approach, letting Louis down gently that he’d really rather not show up to another practice just to get annoyed by Louis. “Anyway, I’ve got to find this book, so I guess I’ll see ya later, or whatever.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. I have to write a paper for my Zoology class, it’s supposed to be about urban wildlife and how animals have adapted to living alongside humans. We need two book sources and I found a couple titles that might work on the computer but I can’t find them.”

“Let me see,” Zayn says, holding his hand out for the little sheet of paper that Louis wrote the numbers on. Louis hands it over willingly and watches as Zayn stares at them for a second before he nods, leading Louis back where he came from. “You’re nowhere near where you should be. The books that you’re looking for are in the 500s, and right now you’re standing in the 800s, the literature section. You won’t find anything on animals in there. Well, you might, but more in the form of a poem than facts.”

“You understand library?” Louis asks, following Zayn three rows over. He had been in this aisle ten minutes ago. “No one understands library.”

Zayn snorts. “It’s just about memorization. If you can remember the categories and their corresponding numbers then you’ll always know where you’re going,” he explains, pausing to look at the numbers once more. “Once you’re in that aisle it’s just about peeking around until you find the right spot where the books are.”

Louis stares in awe as Zayn’s fingers run along the spines of the books until he starts tugging some of them out, passing them to Louis one by one. Zayn hands him five books and then finally turns back to look at Louis, flushing when he sees the look on Louis’ face.

“I work in the library for study hall,” Zayn explains, tugging at the ends of his shirt self-consciously. “If I didn’t know the numbers – or library, as you call it – then I’d kind of be useless here.”

“No, I’m just—I never knew there was a trick.”

“There’s always a trick,” Zayn says with a smile. It’s one of the first that Louis’ has seen and it’s—well, it’s a smile, so it’s not like anyone has ever complained about them, but it looks good on Zayn. Louis is torn on whether he likes the broody stare more. “Anyway, I hope those books help you out on your project.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they will. Thanks,” Louis says, shifting them around in his arms. He hopes that it’s not obvious how heavy they are. Louis can feel the strain in his arms, the same feeling he gets when he holds one of the twins for too long. “I’m gonna go—“

“Oh right. Yeah. I’ve got to finish my work anyway.”

“Thanks for helping me out.”

“No problem,” Zayn mutters, looking at Louis briefly before he moves. Louis releases a breath and then starts to head towards the tables on the other side, before he can reach the end of the stacks he hears, “Hey, Louis?”

Louis turns, eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“Sorry for how I acted yesterday,” he mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Wasn’t having the best day.”

Louis nods and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later.” Zayn smiles at that and then disappears behind the shelves, heading back to where Louis found him earlier.

+++

Louis feels a bit dead after practice. Apparently coach did notice that he skipped out on the end of the last practice and decided to wait until today to force Louis to run. His legs feel a bit like gelatin as he drags himself back towards the locker room.

“You gonna be alright, Tommo?”

Louis looks up at Liam and hopes that his expression is grave and that he looks like he’s hanging on by a thread. Liam’s smile must mean that he’s trying a little too hard.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he sighs, wiping a trail of sweat off his forehead. “Are you sure you won’t need a ride?”

“No, I’ll be alright. Niall’s gonna give me a lift.”

Louis nods and allows Liam to walk ahead. He’s too tired to care about something as frivolous as walking. And with that mentality, Louis makes it to the locker room last, dragging his feet and drowning in self-pity. He perks up though, because standing outside the door of the locker room, in all his broody glory, is Zayn. He has one foot resting against the wall and the other on the ground, fiddling around with his phone.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Louis calls out to him. And amazingly enough, Louis seems to have finally figured out how great walking is as he finally moves with the same confident walk that he usually has. “Were you at practice?”

Zayn looks up, shoving his phone into his pocket along his with his hands. “No, I’m waiting for Harry. He’s my ride,” Zayn explains. “Do you know if he’s in there?”

“Harry wasn’t at practice today. He had a dentist appointment.”

Zayn’s face falls for the briefest of seconds before he groans, shoving his face in his hands. “Fuck. I forgot about that.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“No. No, I’ll be fine,” Zayn says, shaking his head as he looks at Louis. “Fuck. I can’t believe I forgot that. He told me seven times.”

“I can give you a ride if you need one.”

“No, Louis. Really. It’s fine. I can catch the bus.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Just let me grab my shit and I’ll give you a lift. It’s not a big deal, better than hanging around and waiting for the bus.”

Zayn looks like he wants to protest, his bottom lip pulled into his mouth. Louis fixes him with a pointed glare; one that he hopes says something like _really, you’d rather ride on a bus that smells like piss instead of with me?_ Zayn sighs and nods, forcing a grin out of Louis as he bounces past him.

“Give me just a minute.”

+++

“You’re going to have to direct me on which way we’re supposed to be going,” Louis says, coming to stop at the intersection that leads them out of the school parking lot. Zayn points left and Louis nods, flicking on his blinker. So far their homes are the same way, which means that he’s not going out of his way like Zayn implied he would be.

The car ride is quiet and Louis hates it. It settles under his skin and makes him itch. And since Zayn is showing no signs of changing the heavy weighted silence that’s wrapped around them the further they get from school, Louis knows that it’s up to him.

“So Harry was supposed to give you a ride home?” Louis asks, sparing a quick glance towards Zayn to see that he’s nodding.

“Yeah.”

Right. It doesn’t look like Zayn’s going to give in very easily on this one. “Do you guys live close to each other or something?”

“Not really,” Zayn mumbles. “It’s like, a couple neighborhoods apart. So kind of.”

“Is that why he drives you?”

“That and I can’t drive,” Zayn admits and then says, “Take a right at that light.”

“You’re a bit lucky that you can’t. Or well, more so that you don’t have a car. I guess.”

“How so?”

“No one calls you and asks for rides.”

Zayn snorts. “That’s because I do all the calling.”

“Ah. Yes, fair point.”

Zayn laughs and shakes his head at that, his shoulders finally relaxing and Louis finds himself sinking further into the seat as well. This is good, this is what he wanted, a car ride filled with conversation. Maybe not at first, but then, while he was getting dressed in the locker room, he couldn’t help but think about all the things that could happen while they were in a car alone. It was odd, to envision a conversation over Zayn dragging him into the backseat of his car and having his way with Louis in the parking lot behind the supermarket up the street. Or wherever.

“Are you ready for the game tomorrow?” Zayn asks and Louis blinks, realizing that he zoned out for a second.

Louis nods. “Always ready. Sometimes I wish we played more frequently. The other sports have games a few times a week, like soccer and such, but oh well, I guess,” he says, shrugging. Zayn points to the left and Louis takes that as his silent signal to turn. “Are you going to be there?”

“Who else would take pictures?”

Louis shrugs. “Is there actually anyone else that does that or are you being serious?”

“There are others,” Zayn says, laughing. It’s like Louis told a joke or something, the way his eyes crinkle around the edges and a melodic sound spills from his lips. “You don’t really think the school would put one person in charge of photographing all of the events at school, do you?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Turn left into that neighborhood up there,” Zayn says pointing towards a street with a large brick sign at the entrance. “And I don’t know. It’s kind of common sense.”

“Ah, well,” Louis says, following Zayn’s finger as he points out where to go. “Common sense isn’t my strong suit.”

“Yeah, I figured it wouldn’t be.”

“Hey, that sounds like an awful lot like an insult.”

Zayn grins at him, winking before he says, “It’s that one up there. The one with the blue door.”

Louis breathes out and pulls up to the curb, frowning at the house in question. He doesn’t think he’s ever been betrayed by a bit of architecture before in his life but here, right now, in this moment, Louis is feeling the sharp stings of betrayal deep in his gut and he hates it. He wishes Zayn lived further away.

“Thanks for the ride,” Zayn mutters and Louis thinks there might be disappointed laced in his words. Louis hopes so. Louis hopes that Zayn is just as much betrayed by his own house as Louis is.

Zayn reaches into the backseat to grab his bag and offers Louis a small smile before he gets out. Louis watches him walk up the drive and punch in the numbers on the garage door. Louis waits until it shuts again and Zayn disappears before he leaves, feeling a wave of regret that he didn’t ask Zayn for his number or something…anything to keep the conversation going.

+++

The thing about football, high school football, is that nothing else seems to matter in the time spent on the field. Louis doesn’t get much of it, not when his job is to the kick the ball, but watching the game and knowing that he’s a part of the team that’s out there…Louis doesn’t know what could be better than that.

They’re ahead by three thanks to him, with the ball in their possession. It’s only the third quarter and Louis knows that the game could go either way. The other team is giving them hell and he can see the frustration rolling off of Liam and Harry and the other boys as they try to get another touchdown.

Louis is on the edge of his seat, chewing on his fingernails in anticipation as he watches the game. The crowd behind them is cheering for them and it feels like time is standing still, but at the same time it feels like the Earth is vibrating at the sheer force of the crowd. It’s exhilarating and it’s times like these that Louis wishes he were out there, wishes he were running down the field to catch a pass and score.

Out on the field Liam throws the ball and it soars across the field towards—Louis can’t tell who it is but one second it’s in the air and the next second someone on the other team is jumping in the air, intercepting the pass and Louis bites back a scream, jumping up and running his fingers through his hair in annoyance.

Behind him the cheerleaders are going, trying to keep the spirit of the game alive as the school’s mascot hobbles about between them. Louis snorts, shaking his head. But just there, at the edge of the cheer squad and the bench where all the players are sitting is Zayn. He’s got his camera attached to his face, obviously taking pictures of the game.

And maybe Louis was wrong. Maybe something else could matter, because for a second he forgets where he is. Forgets that there’s a game going on behind him that he should be paying attention to.

As soon as the camera is lowered Louis waves, trying to get Zayn’s attention.

“Come here,” Louis shouts, hoping that Zayn can read his lips. Zayn looks around cautiously and then steps forward slowly, moving like he’s scared coach is going to scream at him. Louis moves to stand at the end of the bench and waits. “How’s the picture taking going?”

“It’s alright. Same as always.” Zayn shrugs, holding his camera against his chest. “Are you going to get in trouble for this?”

Louis shrugs this time. “Don’t really care,” he mumbles. “How come I didn’t see you before?”

Zayn smirks at that and Louis frowns, wondering what that means. “I tried to get your attention earlier, but you seemed pretty invested in the game so I figured I’d back off.”

“Oh. Sorry about that,” Louis mutters, shrugging, because at least Zayn knows he didn’t do it on purpose… Or well. Hopefully he knows.

“Don’t worry about it. It was right before your big kick.”

“You saw?”

“Yeah, I’m here, aren’t I?” Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “You’re the reason we’re winning.”

“No, I’m the reason we pulled ahead,” Louis corrects, trying his absolute hardest not to preen. It’s a group effort. Maybe if the score was 3-0 then Louis would admit it was all him, but 17-14 is definitely not his own doing. “Did you get any pictures?”

Zayn shrugs once more and lifts his camera up again. He doesn’t answer but Louis can see his smile and it sends a flutter start to his stomach. He watches Zayn for a few seconds before he turns back to the game, just in time for the defense to switch with the offense.

+++

Louis startles as something is slammed down in front of him. He glances up, lips wrapped around a sandwich and frowns at Niall. He tries to talk but his mouth is full of food and all Niall does is glare at him impatiently, fingers tapping against the table.

“Is everything alright, Niall?” Liam asks from across the table, looking between the two of them.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’m just here for answers,” he says and Louis frowns, not understanding.

“What are you talking about?”

Niall waves him off. “I’m the one asking the questions, Tomlinson.” Louis raises and eyebrow and looks at Liam, who shrugs and goes back to his pizza. “Are you talking to Zayn?”

“Uh—“

“Malik. Zayn Malik. Are you two talking?”

“I mean, not right this second, but we have,” Louis says, and it’s true. It’s been days since Friday’s game and Louis’ has talked to Zayn as much as possible. He found him in the library on Monday, after practice on Tuesday when he was waiting for Harry. He hasn’t seen him yet today, and he’s a bit worried about doing so with Niall staring at him the way he is. “Why?”

Niall squints at him suspiciously like he’s trying to see if he can trust Louis’ answer. “And what kind of talking are we talking about? Are you talking or are you _talking_?”

“What does that even mean?” Louis asks, moving to take another bite of his sandwich. He stops his actions instantly when Niall holds up the school newspaper, waving it around in Louis’ face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Niall sighs and flips it open, moving through the pages quickly until he gets to one with a giant picture of Louis printed on the page. He frowns and takes the newspaper from Niall. It’s an article about the game, a description of what happened and how it talks about Louis’ being the one to score them the three points that got them the win. He reads it in haste, scanning through his glowing praise until he gets to the bottom where he sees Zayn’s name.

“Huh,” Louis mutters, passing the paper back to Niall. It’s immediately snatched away by a curious Liam who whistles lowly as he reads.

“Wow, didn’t realize Louis was the team’s knight in shining armor.”

“Shut up,” Louis groans, ripping the paper out of Liam’s hands. “It didn’t say that.”

“It read as that.”

“Accompanied with your picture,” Niall says in a tone that accuses Louis of far too much. “Did you pay him to write that?”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes, picking his sandwich back up. “I hardly care what the school paper says about me,” he says and bites into his lunch. Niall looks at him for a moment before he sighs, grabbing one of Louis’ chips.

Niall drops the subject, for which Louis is grateful, but he thinks about the article for the rest of lunch, wondering what it might mean, because despite not caring what the paper says, he cares about what Zayn says.

+++

Come practice Louis has decided that the article doesn’t really mean much of anything. It’s a glowing review of his talents for once, since it was him that brought them out of tie territory, and nothing more. Louis isn’t even sure that Zayn wrote the article. His name was probably just there because he took the pictures. Zayn supplies the pictures to the words, so he was only doing his job. That’s all.

For the most part the article is long forgotten by the time he actually sees Zayn, camera to his face and taking pictures of practice like the first time they met. He’s not entirely dressed for the weather this time, still wearing jeans and boots, but finally Louis can see his arms and traces of his collarbone. It’s nice, more than nice. Louis definitely likes being able to see more of him. Zayn’s body, more specifically.

Louis waits until coach gives them a five-minute breather before he approaches Zayn, helmet on the bench and water bottle in hand.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Louis says. Zayn doesn’t startle this time, just looks up at Louis, one eye squinted and traces of a grin on his face.

“Am I supposed to tell you every time that I take pictures?” Zayn asks and Louis shrugs.

“That’d be nice, yeah.” Zayn smiles fully at that, breathing out a laugh. Louis nods, satisfied to have made him smile. “Are you going to be here until the end?”

“Don’t have much choice in the matter, do I? I kind of follow Harry around and wait for him to give me a ride.”

“Is that why you’re taking pictures again?”

Zayn shakes his head. “I was supposed to photograph art club, but,” he sighs, shrugging, “they’re working on their float for the homecoming parade.”

“Already?”

“They start on like, the first day,” Zayn says. “But they don’t trust me to not tell anyone what they’re working on so I’m here.”

Every year during the week of homecoming is three events - aside from the dance - that everyone looks forward to. One of them is the parade, where different groups and clubs and sports teams around school make a float to show off. Art club always wins. Always.

“So Harry’s giving you a ride home, then?” Louis asks and it’s a dumb question because Zayn’s already told him that, but—Whatever. Louis doesn’t have anything else to say, besides that art club is a cult and it’s probably not because they’re worried about him seeing their design, but more so about them being worried that he’s going to see their horrible working conditions…or something like that.

“Everyday since he got his license, yeah. Why?” Zayn looks at Louis skeptically, eyeing him up.

“I don’t know,” Louis mumbles, shrugging. He can hear coach hollering for him and he curses, wishing that coach could back off for five fucking seconds. “What if I gave you a ride instead?”

Zayn looks at Louis for a second, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips and he nods. “Alright, if you want.”

Louis wants, he definitely wants. He gives Zayn a smile before he turns to leave, feeling a bit like he’s floating.

+++

“Is Harry pissed at me?” Louis asks, turning out of the school parking lot. “I felt like he glared at me. Was he mad?”

Zayn snorts, reaching out to fiddle with the radio knobs. “He didn’t really care. And like, he’s not my keeper, I don’t need his permission to get in the car with you,” he says, hitting the preset stations and frowning. “You have the worst taste in music.”

“You’re friends with Harry, you can’t say that to me.”

“So you’ve got the second worst. That’s still awful.”

Zayn finally settles on a station and Louis has to bite his tongue to stop from saying that he has no room to judge when he’s listening to— Louis has never heard this song before, but the lyrics are suggestive and it makes the tips of Louis’ ears turn pink when he thinks about the possibility of Zayn turning this song on for Louis.

“Are you coming to our game this week?” Louis asks, looking for a distraction from the lyrics.

“It’s an away game, so no.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you guys will be driving on the bus, so I won’t have a way there. Which in turn means that I won’t be at the game, someone else will be there to take the pictures,” Zayn explains with a shrug.

Louis nods at that, frowning for a moment. He doesn’t need Zayn there, but he kind of liked getting to see him and talk to him when he was supposed to be watching the game. It’s always nice having Zayn around, and it feels weird to know he won’t be there.

“Turn left.”

“I remember,” Louis mumbles, flicking on his blinker and moving into the turning lane. Zayn raises an eyebrow at that, smirking.

“Have you memorized the directions to my house?”

“Of course. Did you not see me outside of your window last night?”

Zayn snorts. “Yeah, wouldn’t doubt you’d do that,” he jokes and Louis grins. He’d actually never do that because his mother would kill him if she found out he took the car out in the middle of the night. Louis very much values his life and would prefer for his mother not to scream at him until she’s blue in the face.

Louis pulls up outside of Zayn’s house and throws the car into park, turning to look at Zayn with a soft smile on his face. “This is your stop.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Zayn mumbles, staring at the house. He sighs and turns back towards Louis. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Pretending to study.”

“You wanna come in?” Zayn asks and that’s all the invitation Louis needs, turning the car off and racing to take off his seatbelt.

+++

Zayn’s house is small. Not abnormally so, but it definitely looks bigger on the outside. Louis thinks if he took five large steps then he’d miss the living room and end up in the kitchen, but Louis doesn’t mind it. He finds it quite cozy, actually, welcoming and calming to be able to see the family that lives in it without them being here.

It’s quiet, too. Louis can’t hear anything other than their footsteps as Zayn leads up the staircase towards his bedroom. There are pictures on the walls of Zayn and three girls, who Louis assumes are his sisters, all of them smiling for the camera at different stages in their life.

“Um, wait here a second,” Zayn says when they reach the top of the stairs, disappearing into a door directly to their right. Louis can hear a shuffle behind the door, things being thrown around before the door is yanked back open. “Alright, yeah. Come in.”

“Cleaning up for me, Malik?” Louis asks, setting his keys down on the desk behind the door.

Zayn’s room is more than small. There’s nothing in it besides a bed, dresser, and a desk, aside from the little knick-knacks. But Louis thinks that’s just him being the only boy, Louis knows all about getting the smallest bedroom in the house while the girls take over the rest of them.

“Shut up,” he mumbles, dropping down on his bed with a groan. “God, I’m so fucking tired.”

Louis snorts and sits down on the edge, unsure of what to do with himself now that they’re inside.

“Are your parents going to be cool about me being here?”

“Are you kidding me? Someone over that’s not Harry, my mom will probably make you stay for dinner and then bake you a cake, just to make sure that you come back.”

Louis snorts at that, watching as Zayn throws an arm over his eyes, breathing out deeply. “You don’t have many people over?”

“No one to bring home,” Zayn mumbles. “Harry wouldn’t have come over if he didn’t insist on meeting my mom.”

“Sounds like Harry.”

“Yeah, I think he’s got a crush on my dad.”

“Ew, what?”

Zayn laughs, eyes still covered by his arm. “Yeah, he’s always asking when my dad’s gonna be home. And unsurprisingly, that’s usually when Harry likes to come over.”

“Is that—“

“Normal?” Zayn asks, shrugging. “Who knows, but it’s Harry.”

Louis nods, still not fully understanding. Unless Zayn looks like his dad, then maybe Louis could understand why someone would have the hots for him. Louis could definitely understand that.

With Zayn still not looking at him, Louis sighs, glancing around Zayn’s room. It’s neat, for the most part, a couple of pieces of clothing on the floor in the corner and an array of papers on the desk. The walls are decorated with different things, pictures that Zayn must have taken himself, posters from different movies and music artists. Louis isn’t sure who most of them are, but they’re there, looking down at him as he glances around. Something crinkles under his foot and Louis frowns, leaning over the side of the bed to see a bit of plastic wrapped around something.

Pulling it out from under the bed Louis sees that they’re comics, not just the one under his foot but an assortment of them. Iron Man, Green Lantern, Batman, all kinds of different superhero ones. Louis continues to shuffle them out from under the bed until there’s a nice stack in front of him and he blows out an impressed whistle.

“Never in my life would I have pegged you for a comic book geek,” Louis mutters, turning to look at Zayn.

Zayn stills for a moment before shooting up, scrambling off the bed to see that Louis has found his stash. He looks panicked for a moment, staring at Louis with his mouth open. It’s not shock, although he should be since Louis kind of dug around under his bed for them, but it’s more like he’s looking for some kind of excuse, an excuse that he can’t find.

“It’s not a big deal.” Louis shrugs, skimming through the one in his hand. “I’ve got some. I don’t have this many, but I have some. Liam probably has more than this, though, mostly Batman.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said I was holding them for a friend, would you?”

“Not really,” Louis says, looking at Zayn skeptically. “It’s really not a big deal. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Zayn breathes out and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t—This isn’t like. It’s not a thing. I just have some.”

Louis barks out a laugh, startling Zayn for a second. “I’ve got action figures of The Avengers on my nightstand from Christmas last year and you’re worried about comics?” Louis is still laughing as Zayn’s shoulders relax, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

“Action figures?”

“Most of them,” Louis says, calming down just slightly. “Gifts from my little sisters. My mom said it was their idea, so yeah. Action figures.”

Zayn nods, breathing out as he sits back down on the edge of the bed. “Never would have pegged you for someone that plays with dolls,” he teases and Louis elbows him, dropping the comic back down on the ground before he dives on top of Zayn, already digging his fingers into his sides.

Louis tickles Zayn until he’s wheezing beneath him, gasping for air and pleading for Louis to stop. It goes on for several minutes and Louis isn’t sure if he stops because of Zayn’s pleading or because he can feel himself getting hard in his jeans from feeling Zayn squirm around beneath him but it makes him feel light headed. Louis crawls off of Zayn and lies down next to him, breathing out deeply and counting backwards from ten, trying to think of football and smelly socks.

+++

Louis' phone vibrates against the desk and he grabs it quickly, checking to make sure that his teacher hasn’t noticed. As soon as he’s sure that he hasn’t Louis checks the message. It’s from Zayn and Louis can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he opens it.

Last night, before he went home, Louis made sure to get Zayn’s number. It’s exhausting thinking about Zayn and not being able to talk to him at the same time, just so Louis can make sure that Zayn is thinking about him too. But now he doesn’t have to worry about that.

 _finally lookin at pics from practice_  

 ** _Any good ones,_** Louis types back, checking the teacher once more.

 _yeh, got one of you bent over ;)_  

Louis has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

**_Pictures like that get people arrested, Malik._**

_it’s in the back, no1 will know it’s u_

**_Except for creeps like you_**

_XP_

Louis rolls his eyes at that particular emoticon, choosing to pretend that Zayn didn’t send him that. He sets his phone down in his lap and goes back to taking notes. Or well, pretending to take notes. Louis doesn’t really care about Zoology, not when they’ve got a paper due soon and they should be utilizing class time to work on that, not to learn about…whatever they teacher is telling them.

Louis looks up and sees Harry staring at him, an eyebrow raised and expression neutral. Louis pulls a face at him, wanting to know why he’s being stared at like that.

“What?” He whispers and Harry wets his lips, motioning for him to wait a second. Louis frowns again but that’s when he hears their teacher announce that he’ll be handing out a packet for them all to work on for the remainder of class, due on his desk tomorrow. “Why were you glaring at me?” Louis asks as soon as the rest of the class starts chatting.

“Wasn’t glaring,” Harry assures him, leaning back in his seat “Just, you know…”

“I don’t know, actually, it’s why I’m asking.”

“You were texting Zayn, weren’t you?”

Louis’ fingers curl around his phone. “Were you reading my texts?”

“I saw his name.”

“Alright,” Louis says carefully, nodding. “Is that a problem or something?” Louis thinks back to yesterday when he asked if Harry was mad about him driving Zayn home, Zayn had played it off like it was nothing but obviously it’s something. Something to Harry, at least. “Is this because I drove him home?”

“No, I’m just wondering what you’re doing with him, that’s all.”

“Doing with him?”

“Yeah, like is this because you like him or are you guys friends?”

“I—“ Louis stumbles on a response, his tongue heavy in his mouth as he shrugs. It’s kind of both, he thinks. He more than definitely likes Zayn, obviously, but right now it’s just a friendship situation. It’s hard to get a read on Zayn, which makes it difficult for Louis to know where they stand, if the line is drawn at friends or if Zayn is still waiting to draw that line for them. “I mean, we’re friends, yeah, but like—I don’t know. It was just a text.”

“And just a drive home.”

“You know, I told Zayn that you were probably going to be mad about that.”

“Not mad, just asking,” Harry says, sitting up and holding a hand out for the packet that their teacher is giving them.

“Have you thought about asking Zayn?”

Harry looks at Louis likes he’s stupid, a slight grin on his face as he shakes his head. “Zayn’s my best friend. You’re my friend too, but like, Zayn’s my Liam, you know? If someone’s _talking_ to him then I’m going to talk to that person, you get it?”

He placed that emphasis on talking again, just like Niall did that day in the cafeteria and Louis still doesn’t understand what that means but he nods, because he does comprehend the bit about Liam. Louis has friends, of course he does, but there’s only one best friend and that’s Liam. It’s always been Liam.

“So, do you think that you understand why I’m talking to you and not him?”

Louis nods even though he doesn’t, but it seems to please Harry so Louis counts it as a win on his part.

+++

Louis is surprised to see Zayn leaning up against the side of his car after practice. He wasn’t there taking pictures, nor was he waiting outside of the locker room for Harry, instead he’s here. Louis bites back a smile and his surprise as he unlocks the doors, throwing his stuff in the back.

“You good?” Zayn asks, lifting an eyebrow as he looks at Louis carefully.

“Yeah, why?”

“Look like you’re thinking.”

Louis nods and releases a heavy sigh. “Just a long day.” It’s true for the most part. Aside from Harry, Louis got into it with his lit teacher and then he had a shit run of things at practice, his mind on everything but the task at hand. It’s exhausting, but Louis feels better now that he’s going home, now that he’s cramped in his little car with Zayn.

“Games tomorrow, you ready for it?”

“Always ready,” Louis says, smiling, grateful that Zayn isn’t going to push him into anything. “Wish you were going. I don’t know how we’re going to do without my paparazzi.”

Zayn snorts at that, rolling his eyes fondly. “You’ll be fine.”

“Don’t act like you’re not going to miss me.”

“I won’t.” Zayn folds his arms over his chest and turns his nose up at that, fighting against a laugh. “I’ll get to enjoy a night that doesn’t smell like sweat with a million people screaming behind me.”

“I could arrange to have that happen.”

“I’m sure it’ll happen anyway. Minus the smell of sweat,” Zayn mutters. “My little sister is having friends over.

Louis nods in sympathy; he definitely understands that part of it. If Zayn’s sisters are anything like his own then his night will involve a lot of giggling from behind the corner as their friends stare at him. So he gets it and maybe he could make it better.

“What are you doing on Saturday?”

“Nothing, why?”

Louis wets his lips and swallows, mentally preparing himself. “You wanna go out with me?” Zayn’s eyes widen and Louis curses, shaking his head violently. “On Saturday. Do you want to go out like… on Saturday. Um, with me.”

“Did you just ask me out on a date?”

Louis mouth blurts yes before he realizes what he’s saying. Zayn’s eyes widen ever so slightly and Louis feels the blush spread from his ears and down his neck, threatening to take over his body. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Which part? The part about it being a date or the part about you pretending it’s not a date?”

“Whichever one you want?” Louis says, wincing. He’s normally a lot better at this stuff. “Or like, I mean. It doesn’t have to be… a thing if you don’t want it to be.”

Zayn’s still look at him, eyes a pinch wider than normal as he nods. Louis has no idea what that even means. “Yeah. Alright.”

“Yes to which one?”

“Whichever one you want,” Zayn teases, grabbing his bag and getting out of the car. “See you tomorrow, Louis.”

Louis breathes out and smiles at him, gripping onto the steering wheeling and hoping that he can make it until Saturday.

+++

They lose their football game on Friday. Louis goes home and collapses into bed, shoving his face in the pillows and telling himself that it wasn’t his fault. It’s one game. They’ll make up for it next week. He got his kick and that’s all that matters, he did his part and there’s nothing else he can do about it.

Besides, it’s not like Louis’ fully had his head in the game anyway.

+++

Louis yanks a shirt off its hanger, stares at for a second and then tosses it over his head. It’s definitely not the look he’s going for. He grabs another, green with white trim around the color and sleeves. No. A blue, a white, a black, another white, another black, all of them thrown over his head and into his no pile. The bottom half of his outfit has already been decided, black jeans with a pair of black shoes, but he can’t figure out a top.

Taking a deep breath Louis closes his eyes. He has half an hour until he’s supposed to leave to pick up Zayn and he really needs a shirt. With his eyes closed, Louis slides his fingers along his hangers, back and forth until he stops, gripping onto the first available shirt. He opens his eyes and tugs it off the hanger, staring at red and blue jersey in his hand. It’s what his subconscious chose so this is what he’s going to wear.

Louis still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with Zayn tonight. There’s a fine line that he’s scared to cross, the one isn’t sure if this is a casual hangout or like… well, like a date, or something. He should know, since it seemed like Zayn had wanted it to be a date, but his parting line to Louis has left him in limbo since Thursday. Louis decides that he’s just going to wing it. If it ends up being a date, that’s great. If it ends up not being a date…well, it’s not the end of the world.

Zayn looks ever so casual when Louis picks him up, hair and clothes done just right as he walks towards Louis’ car. It’s wonderfully infuriating and Louis plasters his best ‘ _I’m not at all nervous’_ smile on his face as Zayn gets in the car.

“If you don’t want to meet my parents then I suggest you drive off immediately,” Zayn says as soon as he gets into the car, putting on his seatbelt with rapid speed. “I’m serious. Go. They’re peeking out of the front window.”

Louis nods and does as Zayn says, throwing the car into drive and driving off. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t meet your parents?”

“Not really, but when they heard I was going out with someone that wasn’t Harry they got curious.”

“Should I go back and meet them?”

“Absolutely not,” Zayn says, shaking his head. “All of my aunts are over.”

“Is that normal?”

“Yeah, but like… Well, they kind of had motives for coming over today.”

“Motives?” Louis asks, wondering if he should be scared about this. “What kind of motives? That sounds ominous.”

“They wanted to invite you inside and force you to eat samosas while questioning you on what we’re doing and what your intentions are,” Zayn explains and Louis’ raises an eyebrow at that. “That’s why I told you to drive off. We’d have spent all night at home.”

“Well, at least they’d have plans for us,” Louis jokes. It makes Zayn smile and he likes that. He likes being able to be the one to put a smile on Zayn’s face because they’re like shooting stars, an amazing burst of light that leaves him in awe. “Unlike me. I don’t have a plan.”

Zayn shrugs. “Don’t really need a plan, just happy to get out of the house.”

“Then I guess I’ve done my job. Might as well turn around and take you back.”

“My family would definitely come outside to talk to you about that.”

Louis laughs and focuses on the road as Zayn starts to play around with Louis’ radio, muttering under his breath about he’s going to change the presets or just stash CD’s in Louis’ center console. He’s looking at Louis’ through his lashes as he says it, tongue pressed against his lip in a smirk.

“What if we got food?” Zayn asks, settling on an RnB station that Louis isn’t familiar with. “I’m starving.”

“You didn’t have any su— sam-- things?”

“Samosas. And no.”

“Food it is,” Louis says, fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. “Are you picky? Do I need to pick someplace that’ll impress you or are you indifferent to food places?”

“I kind of want a milkshake. Anywhere I can get a milkshake.”

+++

Louis ends up choosing a barbeque place that Liam’s older sister works at. Besides having good food, they have milkshakes made out of real ice cream and not whatever other places use. It’s better and Louis isn’t above saying that he’s trying to impress Zayn.

“Bacon milkshakes,” Zayn whispers when their waiter has walked off after taking their order. “Bacon. Why would anyone want that?”

“They also had caramel corn, that’s kind of odd.”

“Not really, it probably just takes like caramel and not bacon.”

“I was tempted to order it,” Louis says and Zayn blinks at him, shaking his head. “I’m serious.”

“I would have called Harry to come and get me.”

Louis thinks of Harry’s words from the other day and has to bite back his, _oh god, please don’t do that._ Instead he says, “He’d probably come in and try it. You know how he is.”

“That I do,” Zayn says. “That I do.”

“So I guess you’re stuck here with me and my hidden desire for bacon ice cream.”

Zayn sighs and does his best to look put out at the thought of being forced to spend time with Louis. He scrunches his nose up and makes a disgusted sort of face. “You’re tolerable, I guess. Not my best choice for a date though, are you?”

Louis stares at Zayn, a happy twist in the pit of his stomach at Zayn’s words. This outing is exactly what he intended it to be for and he has to take a sip of his water to keep the smile off his face.

“Hey, how’s your zoology paper coming along? Were those books any help? I meant to ask.”

Louis nods. “Yeah, they were alright. I’m not really the biggest fan of using books as sources. I mean, I’m sure they’re a bit more accurate than most of what you find online, but…”

“You actually have to work to find what you’re looking for?”

“Yes and it’s awful,” Louis whines. “I barely have to read anything to get the information that I need, which means my assignment is done quicker.”

“But don’t you want to write something… I don’t know, something you’re proud of? Something you put work into?”

Louis scoffs. “This is high school. I’ll get my diploma at the end of the year whether or not I bullshit this paper. They want me out as much as I want out,” Louis says with a shrug. “It’s kind of how it works.”

“Yeah, but—I don’t know. I guess that’s true. It’s easier when you’re writing something that you enjoy?”

“You enjoy writing?”

“I’m in yearbook and I write for the newspaper,” Zayn says, fixing Louis with an unimpressed look. “I kind of figured it was obvious.”

Louis breathes out as the waiter approaches, dropping their food down in front of them. He waits until he’s gone to say, “I knew that you were in those, I just meant like… for school. Class assignments, not leisurely writing.”

“At risk of sounding like a massive nerd, yeah, I do. Not all the time, but most of the time I do.”

“Wow, so not only do you read comic books but you get off to writing papers,” Louis says, taking a bite of his food, shaking his head as Zayn laughs. “So what else do you like to do in your spare time besides keep nerd stereotypes alive?”

“I like to pity date football players that don’t understand how a library works or that they should actually do their homework instead of trusting the Internet to do it for them,” Zayn tells him, smirking and he looks proud of himself, like he used all his one-liner power on that right there.

Louis looks at him, biting down on his bottom lip and trying to look offended. “I see how it is, Malik. Give a guy a milkshake and see how he treats you. I’ll remember this.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Zayn says and there’s a hint of a promise in his eyes that has Louis eating his food a little faster.

+++

The ride home is filled with silence, minus the soft sounds of the radio and the even softer sounds of Zayn singing under his breath. Louis' mind keeps drifting back to ‘ _I’ll make it up to you’_ and the different ways that Zayn could possibly make it up to him. He hadn’t asked, but god he should have. Louis’ nerves are all over the place with anticipation for what’s to come.

It comes in the form of Zayn’s hand resting on his thigh, thumb tapping to the beat of the music. There’s no undercurrent to it, no hidden message laced in his touch but Louis perks up anyway.

It comes in the form of Zayn asking Louis to please pull the car over already. Louis nods and chokes on his tongue as he drives just a bit further down the street to park the car somewhere where random people won’t try peeking in through the window for a peep show. Louis isn’t a fool; he knows exactly what’s going to happen when he pulls the car over.

“I don’t have to be home for another forty-five minutes, so you better make use of it, Tomlinson,” Zayn says before he leans over and presses his lips against Louis’.

It’s not the most romantic of first kisses, not like Louis really cares about romance when Zayn’s tongue is already licking into his mouth, wasting absolutely no time to get what he wants, but the gear shift is digging into his thigh as he tries to find a suitable position to make this comfortable because he wants to press Zayn up against the door, pin him down and rub against him in every way that he can.

Zayn touches a lot as they kiss, fingers dragging from the back of Louis’ neck to his cheeks, down his arms to slip around his ribs and tug him in a little closer. And Louis’ brain can’t seem to keep up so he focuses on the kissing and less on the touching, making sure he curls his tongue in just the right way to compliment Zayn’s.

They kiss until Zayn’s phone starts ringing, until Zayn pulls away regretfully and curses when he realizes that he’s already ten minutes late. Louis throws the car into park, panting as he races to get Zayn home, his brain still fuzzy and lips tingling.

+++

Louis feels like he shouldn’t be surprised when Niall slams his tray down on the table at lunch that Monday. He’s not sure why he feels that way, maybe because Niall seems to have a sixth sense about who is with whom, or maybe it’s because of the mark on the side of his neck. Who knows. It’s kind of already going away, he spent all weekend with an ice pack pressed to the skin and trying out everything else that the Internet suggested.

“Multiple sources are confirming that you and Zayn went out on a date,” Niall says, slowly opening his bottled water. “True or false?”

“Uh.” Louis looks over at Liam who has stopped eating to stare intently at them. “Who are the sources?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Niall says, waving his hand around. “Answer the question.”

“We—Yeah. I went out with Zayn on Saturday.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Liam asks, sounding both amazed and annoyed. “Since when have you ever been quiet about who you’re hooking up with?”

“We didn’t hook up,” Louis protests. Both Niall and Liam’s give him an unimpressed look, their gazes dropping down to the mark on his neck. “Alright. Okay. Listen, that doesn’t mean we hooked up.”

“It means something happened,” Liam mutters.

Niall bites into his burrito and stares at Louis intently, studying him and trying to figure out what to say next. Louis rolls his eyes. It’s not like they’ve never come to lunch looking worse for wear thanks to someone else. Thanks to activities far more…sexual than the ones that took place on Saturday.

“Who are these sources? I didn’t see anyone from school besides Zayn this weekend. How could anyone have seen us together?”

“My cousin is a waitress at the place you ate,” Niall tells him, swallowing. “She remembers meeting you at a party last summer. Anyway, she saw you and then at Sunday dinner she told me about it.”

“It’s not really any of her business.”

“She’s hardly the first person to talk about you behind your back, Tomlinson, might as well get over it now,” Niall mumbles.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm,” Liam says reasonably. Louis could just slap him; he doesn’t need reason right now. He needs Niall’s cousin to keep her flapping mouth shut. And not because he’s embarrassed to be seen with Zayn, he’s not, he’ll tell the entire school over the intercom during morning announcements if he feels like it, but more so because it’s new. It’s important to Louis. He likes Zayn and he doesn’t Niall’s cousin ruining things if Zayn doesn’t want people to know. “Maybe she just wanted to let Niall know that she saw you,” Liam adds, probably noticing Louis’ sour expression.

Niall nods, waving his hand around in Liam’s direction as if to say ‘ _yeah, that’s what happened. What Liam said.’_

“It’s just—you know. We had dinner, that’s all.”

Liam nods, staring down at his food as he says, “So like, do you like him, or whatever?” He looks up slowly to catch Louis’ reaction and Louis is faintly aware of Niall staring at him as well, the two of them making his skin crawl under their intense gazes.

Louis has to think about it for a second. A millisecond, actually, because truth be told he liked Zayn the second he laid eyes on him, attitude and all. Louis has liked Zayn since that very moment, in a crush sort of way, but now—

“Yeah,” Louis admits, nodding. “He’s, uh. Yeah.”

Niall claps him on the back, winking at him. “Picked yourself the prettiest boy in school, didn’t you, Tommo?”

Louis laughs, feeling lighter now that he’s admitted it to someone out loud. “He is very pretty, indeed.”

“If you’re happy then I’m happy,” Liam says, nodding once. “He’s probably much better than that last guy you had a thing for. What was his name?”

“Please don’t.”

“The one with the hair or the one that talked a lot?” Niall asks.

“No, that’s the same person. The one that got sick on your driveway ten minutes into the party one time.”

“Oh! Steven,” Niall says, nodding. “Yeah, Steven was a dick.”

Louis rolls his eyes with a sigh, tuning his friends out as he goes back to enjoying his lunch.

+++

As soon as Louis’ teacher announces that their class period would be spent working on their research papers, Louis’ hand shoots up in the air to ask permission to head to the library. The last place he wants to be is class, so he’s over the moon when his teacher gives him permission and tells him to be back before the bell rings.

Louis runs there, books clutched to his chest. He tosses his pass down in the little basket for the librarian, sets his books down on a nearby table, and then sets off in search of Zayn.

He finds him with a stack of books in his hand, slowly but surely putting them back on the shelves where they belong. He hasn’t spotted Louis, so Louis tiptoes behind him, waiting until Zayn is hunched over, trying to get a book on a lower shelf before he wraps his arms around him.

It doesn’t go as planned. Louis isn’t sure what exactly the plan was, but it definitely didn’t involve getting shoved backwards and whacked in the arm with a book.

“Louis, what the hell,” Zayn cries, after several hits to Louis’ arm. “Why would you sneak up on me like that?”

“Did you just beat the shit out of me with a book?” Louis asks, staring at Zayn in disbelief. “Let me see that.” He snatches the book away from Zayn and holds up the evidence. “You hit me with a Jane Austen.”

“You grabbed me. I didn’t know who you were.”

“You could have just checked or just shoved me,” Louis says, rubbing at the sore spot on his arm. “This counts as abuse in at least twelve countries.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, snatching the book away from Louis. “I’ve never seen a law against hitting someone with literature.”

“There are laws against hitting.”

“There’s laws against unwanted contact, as well,” Zayn says and Louis sighs. He has a point. Still, Louis was hoping that maybe Zayn would be able to smell him out or something, like maybe he’d just know from touch that it was Louis behind him. Not his best plan, in hindsight. But still. Louis was beat with a book.

“Okay,” Louis mutters, running his fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“I hit you.”

Louis shakes his head. “Right, sorry. The abuse must have gotten to my head,” he mumbles, grinning when Zayn glares. “I’m sorry I snuck up on you. Who knows what I was thinking.”

There’s a trace of a smile on Zayn’s lips as he finally shoves the Jane Austen where she belongs, on a shelf with other books and not being slammed repeatedly into Louis’ arm.

“What are you doing out of class?” Zayn asks, back still turned towards Louis as he continues to work. “Are you here for books or for abuse?”

“For you, actually, but I guess I could go if we’re going to be book fighting.”

“Are you telling the truth or are you sucking up?”

“The truth. We had a free day in class so I decided to spend mine here with you, because you’re cute and I like you and I want to.”

“Definitely sucking up,” Zayn mumbles, fingers gliding across the spines of the books as he continues to put them away, ignoring Louis completely. It’s very frustrating on Louis’ end. “And since when do science classes give out free days?”

“Okay. So I’m supposed to be working, but I can work at home.”

“You can see me at home.”

“I wanted to see you now,” Louis whines, sounding all of five years old. “Stop ignoring me.”

Zayn sighs and shoves one last book on the shelf before he finally turns around. Louis grins knowing that he has his attention, feeling a bit giddy. Zayn just shakes his head and grabs Louis’ hand and then uses his other to pull the cart along behind them. So he doesn’t have all of Zayn’s attention, but he has some it, and he has contact in the form of skin and not a hardback book. It’s definitely progress, not exactly a win, but progress.

“Are you taking me to a secluded corner so that you can have your way with me?” Louis asks, watching as Zayn rolls his eyes, letting go of the cart to keep walking. “You are. Oh my god, I was joking.”

“So you really only came down here to watch me work?” Zayn asks, pulling Louis along.

“I would have been fine with anything, just wanted to see you,” Louis admits.

“That definitely feels more like the truth,” Zayn says, finally stopping and turning, gripping onto Louis’ other hand and pulling him in a little closer. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

Louis just grins at him, leaning in for a kiss that Zayn gladly returns, his fingers letting go of Louis’ hands to grip onto his hips, pulling him a little closer.

There’s a rush of excitement in Louis’ stomach at the kiss. He’s kissing a boy in the library, tucked into the far corner where they won’t get caught. And he’s kissing Zayn. He gets to kiss Zayn.

Louis gets to kiss Zayn.

It’s completely and totally blowing his mind that it’s a thing he’s allowed to do at all, let alone in the library while Zayn’s supposed to be working.

“Are we going to get caught?” Louis asks, gasping for breath as Zayn pulls away, mouth dragging from his lips to his neck. “Oh god.”

“Librarian is at lunch and the cameras don’t show over here. As long as you don’t keep shouting like that, we’ll be fine,” Zayn says between kisses and bites and this wonderful thing he does with his tongue on Louis’ skin that Louis doesn't even know how to describe besides wow. “How long do you have here?”

“Eternity, hopefully,” Louis mumbles and Zayn laughs, teeth dragging lightly across Louis’ jugular. “In reality, probably only an half hour at most.”

“Guess we’ll have to make the most of it,” Zayn says, pressing his lips back to Louis’.

+++

Louis slips back into class with five minutes to spare, thanking his teacher profusely for allowing him the chance to go to the library. She waves him off, distracted by the tests she’s grading, and Louis drops down into his seat with a sigh. There’s a stupid grin on his face and he knows it. He doesn’t even care, as far as Louis is concerned he’s on cloud nine and everyone can shove it up their ass if they have a problem.

Well… almost everyone. Harry’s staring at him knowingly, pen tapping against the edge of the desk and making Louis’ squirm under his gaze. It definitely puts a damper on his smile.

“Looks like you had a good time at the library,” Harry says and Louis shrugs.

“Research isn’t exactly my favorite thing, but it’s not bad.”

Harry nods, scratching lazily at his jaw as he sits up a bit more in his seat. “You don’t like research?”

“No,” Louis says, refraining from adding that he just said that. He’s not sure why he’s scared of Harry all of a sudden. Truth be told Louis could take him. Harry’s not that much bigger than him. He has more muscle, sure, but Louis is scrappier and more willing to defend himself.

The bell rings and Louis breathes out, grateful.

“I guess it’s a good thing you spent your time with Zayn instead of doing research, then,” Harry says, and Louis stills, looking up at him slowly. Harry just shakes his head and presses his finger to Louis’ collarbone. “If you’re gonna make out with my best friend and try to hide it from me, might want to wear a turtleneck.”

Harry’s laughing at him as he leaves, shaking his head. It brings the smile back to Louis’ face, happy to know that he’s not going to die at the hand of Harry Styles today.

+++

There’s a knot deep in Louis’ chest as he watches the game in front of him. It’s not pretty. They’re losing by one touchdown and Louis’ can feel a nagging bite of worry at the back of his mind because this isn’t good. They’re not at stake of failing to make it to the championship, but the last thing they need is another lose on their record.

Everyone is working as hard as they, maybe even harder than they normally do to try and get the score even. Louis wishes that he could do more. He wants to do more. He wants to get out there and help, but he just—He can’t. There’s to do but watch as Liam gets slammed to the ground before he can even make a pass.

Always one for positivity, Liam jumps back up, shouting something to the other players that Louis’ can’t make out before they line back up. It’s with a knot in his chest and his stomach at his knees – figuratively, of course – that he watches this next play.

The ball is handed to Liam, he’s holding onto it, looking for someone to throw it to. Louis clutches his hair as Liam throws the ball, just as another player is tackling him. It’s in the air and Louis’ feels time stop. The crowd behind them silent and then…

The ball drops down in the hands of Jon, who grips the ball like it’s the only thing matters before he turns around and runs. He runs and runs and dodges other players and then scores, running straight into the end zone. The crowd screams and Louis’ almost collapses with relief. They did it.

“Tomlinson, get out there,” coach shouts and Louis nods, knowing that it’s all on him. He shoves his helmet on and walks out onto the field. He makes this and they tie. He makes this and they can pull ahead and win this.

Louis lines up with the ball, breathing out as he takes several steps backward.

It’s ends as quick as it started, the ball swerving to the left and missing the goal post completely. Louis’ watches it all in horror, feeling like he’s let everyone down. He glances up at the score and sees that there’s only a minute and a half left in the game and he hates himself.

An ugly burst of anger swells up inside of him as he moves towards the sidelines, ripping off his helmet and wishing that he could throw it. He wants to scream, wants to yell out because this is his fault. There’s not enough time left in the game for them to win this, not without a miracle and they’re not getting one.

He’s so—He’s so angry. It feels irrational and uncontrollable, like a fire started from grease instead of fire. It’s unruly, unstoppable, making him feel out of his skin.

Zayn’s there. Of course he is. And that alone sends another burst of anger coursing through his blood.

“Louis, it’s fine,” Zayn says, like he knows what Louis’ thinking. Like he knows what’s going on in Louis’ head. “Hey, talk to me.” He grabs a hold of Louis’ wrist and Louis’ flinches, yanking his hand away.

“Fucking don’t,” Louis grits out. He just wants to be left alone. “Leave me the fuck alone, Zayn.”

Zayn stares at him as he stomps off, dropping down on the bench to stew in his misery. He lost the game for his team, he’s allowed to be pissed off, okay?

+++

Louis doesn’t leave the locker room right away.

After coach’s pep talk with them, letting them know how hard they worked, how even though they lost, they shouldn’t feel like losers, because it’s one game. It’s one game in their high school career and they worked hard. Harder than he’s ever seen them work before and he knows they’ll do the same next week, because they’re hungry for it, hungry for a win.

Louis doesn't even care to listen to it. It’s a pep talk for them, not for him. No one says anything. No one blames him, at least not out loud. Out loud they pat him on the back as they walk out and head home for the night. Except for Liam, he pulls him into a hug and tells Louis that it’s not his fault; it was just an off night all around. Louis nods as he pulls away, promising that he’ll be fine and he’ll see him later.

Louis sits on the bench for a while, remembering how to breathe. Remembering how to function as a normal human being, not as a human suffocated with rage. Rage stemmed from anger at himself, at not being good enough, even though he wishes that he were. That’s why he’s the kicker after all, good with the ball as long as his hands don’t touch it. Sometimes. Not tonight.

Twenty minutes alone and Louis’ feels better. Kind of. He mostly feels like an ass for snapping at Zayn. He shouldn’t have done that. He knows that Zayn was only trying to help and he snapped at him, probably made Zayn feel like his help wasn’t wanted. Like he wasn’t wanted.

Louis hauls himself out of the locker room, dragging his feet as he walks to his car. He makes a mental note to text Zayn when he can get his phone hooked up to a charger. He needs to apologize as soon as he can.

As soon as he can turns out to be the moment he reaches his car. Zayn’s there, leaning against the passenger door and look at Louis’ cautiously.

“You okay?” Zayn asks and Louis nods then shrugs before he finally sighs, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. Was just—Wasn’t really feeling so hot in that moment,” Louis explains, stepping around Zayn to toss his bag into the backseat. “Not an excuse, just. I’m sorry.”

Zayn sighs and grabs onto him, pulling Louis into a hug. “You’re an idiot,” Zayn mumbles, shoving Louis’ face into his neck like his mother does when she knows he’s upset. Zayn’s fingers find their way into his hair and his lips onto the side of Louis’ face. “I knew you didn’t mean it,” he says. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Louis nods, breathing out against Zayn. He wishes that he could stay here all night, just the two of them stranded in the school parking lot with their arms around each other. It can’t happen, but maybe Louis can keep Zayn for a little while, that’d be just as nice.

“Would your parents freak if you spent the night at my house?” Louis asks, pulling away to look at Zayn.

Zayn shakes his head. “We’ll be alright.” Louis nods and then rubs at his face, feeling better now that he knows Zayn doesn’t hate him. That would have been worse than losing a football game. “You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah, just sucked a bit. A lot. It sucked a lot.”

“I know it doesn’t help, but it’s only one kick. You can’t really control what the ball does. There’s so many factors that come into play with that shit,” Zayn says. “And if it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure I felt wind while you were kicking, so I bet that—“

Louis startles himself and Zayn when he laughs. There was no wind, not even a little bit, but Louis’ appreciates the effort…so much. He laughs until his sides hurt, collapsing against Zayn for that brief moment.

Louis’ drives them back to his house once he’s calmed down, listening to the soft sounds of Zayn’s favorite radio station until they pull into his driveway. He doesn’t even care about his bag, just grabs Zayn’s hand and pulls him along the walkway, into the house where he shouts a greeting to his mom and then keeps going up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“Should I have introduced myself to your mom?” Zayn asks, frowning as he stares at Louis’ closed door. “I don’t want her to think I’m a dick.”

“You are a dick,” Louis says, pulling open one of his dresser drawers. “And no, I’m tired and she’ll keep us up all night. Especially once I tell her that you beat the crap out of me.”

“Oh my god, it was one of her smaller books. Stop crying about it,” Zayn says, taking the pajamas that Louis’ holds out for him.

Louis does the mature thing and sticks his tongue out at Zayn, taking his clothes off and putting more on. He drops onto his bed and whines, waving at the light switch, trying to tell Zayn with his cries that he really needs to lights turned off.

With a roll of his eyes, Zayn shuts the light off and gets into bed next to Louis. He’s not wearing a shirt and Louis wants to tell him that’s illegal when he’s supposed to be moping. It’s insensitive, honestly.

Louis breathes and waits all of three seconds before he curls into Zayn, throwing a leg over him and an arm, shoving his face into Zayn’s neck.

“What are you doing?” Zayn asks, amused. “What if your mom comes up here? Is she going to beat me with a Jane Austen?”

Louis snorts. She will if she ever finds out that Zayn hit him first. “It’s a twin, Zayn. It’s small. The only way we’re going to make it through the night is if we cuddle.”

“Move over,” Zayn says. Louis squeezes him tighter.

“No, I’m cuddling you.”

“Shut up and move over,” Zayn says, pushing Louis off of him.

“This is the worst I’ve ever been treated in my own bed in my whole life,” Louis grumbles, tugging the blankets further over on his side of the bed. Zayn doesn’t want to cuddle him, fine. Zayn doesn’t get any blankets. Louis’ hopes he freezes, then he’ll want to cuddle. “My sister has a Barbie house, go sleep in that.”

Zayn laughs and tugs the blankets back as he scoots across the bed, pressing against Louis’ back. Oh. That’s—well, that’s nice. Zayn’s hand snakes around his waist and Louis definitely likes that.

“Roll over,” Zayn says.

“Are you kidding me?”

“When I said move over I meant actually move, not roll over. I wanna see your face,” Zayn says and god. Cuddling shouldn’t be this difficult. “There. Much better.”

“You’re supposed to be making me feel better about being an utter failure,” Louis mumbles, scowling at him as he shoves his leg between Zayn’s. “You’re doing a poor job of being my emotional doctor.”

“You’re a horrible patient,” Zayn tells him, pulling Louis’ a little closer. His lips press against Louis’ forehead and Louis breathes out. He’s not really upset about the game anymore. There’s still a tiny part of him that thinks he should have done better, if only he was better, but he swallows it down and focuses on feeling of Zayn’s beating heart. “Go to sleep, Lou.”

“Thanks for coming over, Zayn,” Louis mutters, pressing a kissing to Zayn’s collarbone before he shuts his eyes.

+++

The first thing Louis feels when he wakes up is regret. Regret for acting like a complete and utter jerk about missing a kick. It’s deep and heavy in his gut, the shame of having snapped at Zayn and having acted like a wild animal. Or, close to a wild animal. Maybe animals have actual reasons for being upset, unlike Louis. He sighs, low and heavy as he rubs his hands over his tired face.

He’s not sure what time it is, but he knows that it’s far too early. Far earlier than he would have liked to wake today. Zayn’s still asleep next to him, his elbow pressed against the side of Louis’ head and his knee digging into his thigh.

There’s a quiet giggle from somewhere on the other side of the room and Louis blinks, sitting up slowly. He glances around and then sees it, the wisps of blonde hair trying to hide behind the side of his bed. Louis takes a guess at who it is and says, “Get out, Daisy.”

“I’m not Daisy,” Phoebe says, sitting up to glare at Louis. “And you’ve got a boy in your bed.”

“Sorry,” Louis mumbles. “And I know, he spent the night last night. Now get out. Please.”

“Mom told me to come and wake you.”

“For what?”

“Breakfast.”

Louis sighs and looks over at Zayn, he’s still sleeping, like two people talking around him doesn’t bother him in the slightest. In another world Louis thinks that he would have gotten up to make breakfast for Zayn himself, as a silent apology for the way he acted. But this isn’t another world.

“Go and get two plates and bring them up here,” Louis tells her, waving at his sister to leave. “Have Daisy help you.”

“Okay,” Phoebe says, jumping up and rushing out of the room.

Louis waits until Phoebe comes back before he wakes Zayn. Actually, he waits until after he’s cleared off his desk, shoving everything onto the floor in a neat little pile, and then pressing it against the side of the bed. It’s the closest thing to breakfast in bed that he can manage. With a sigh, Louis sets the plates down on the bed and then moves to wake up Zayn.

Zayn’s a lot harder to wake than most people, Louis finds. He keeps his eyes closed and swats at Louis’ hand until he finally opens his eyes, groaning as he rolls onto his back.

“Wake up, I’ve made you breakfast in bed.”

“Your mom made it, I heard your sister,” Zayn mumbles, sitting up slowly. He stares at the desk, blinking until he finally looks up at Louis. “What’s this?”

“We’re going to eat,” Louis tells him, crawling onto the bed and sitting next to Zayn. He sits on the edge, his feet on the floor and desk pressed against his chest. “Just shut up and start eating. I’m trying to do something special to say sorry for being an ass last night, and since I can’t cook anything other than cereal…”

“You can’t cook cereal.”

“Make cereal,” Louis says, waving his hand around. Whatever. Technicality. “Cereal isn’t—I don’t know. You wouldn’t have forgiven me so eat the food.”

“Are you still going on about last night?” Zayn asks. “Didn’t I already tell you that it’s not a big deal?”

“It is to me. I was...a dick. I am a dick.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’m best friend’s with Harry. He’s on your team, so do you think I don’t know how you…football players can get when you lose?”

“I—“

“No, shut up. He’s the mopiest person on Earth. Yeah you were a little aggressive in your feelings but I’m not going to cry about the fact you wanted to be left alone for a while.”

“I didn’t say you cried.”

“You’re acting like it.”

“Are you arguing with me after I made you an apology breakfast?” Louis asks. “Because I’ll have you know that’s a dick move. A dick move that requires you to make me an apology lunch.”

“Your mom made this,” Zayn says, laughing. “I can be rude to you, you didn’t make anything. And you snapped at me last night, remember?”

“I know,” Louis sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Zayn mumbles, shoving at Louis’ shoulder. “I was joking. I don’t even care. To be honest though, I’m a bit upset that we went to sleep instead of making out all night, but whatever.”

Louis nods his head in agreement. He definitely wasted a wonderful opportunity to have Zayn in his bed, and instead of taking full advantage of it and doing marvelous things, they decided to sleep. Maybe that’s why Louis woke up and felt nothing more than regret.

Kissing Zayn is so great and all Louis could manage last night were stupid pecks in places that weren’t Zayn’s lips. Not even interesting places.

“We can spend today making up for that,” Louis says. He didn’t really have plans for the weekend besides catching up on assignments that he neglected throughout the week. But kissing Zayn sounds so much better. Louis’ should have thought of that when he had the dumb idea of doing homework. Priorities, he really needs to learn to get more of them.

“First, you need to stop talking and eat your breakfast,” Zayn tells him. “Then, you’re going to get this desk away from the bed.”

“And then?”

“And then we’ll worry about what to do with your bed.”

“With it or in it?” Louis asks. Zayn rolls his eyes.

“Just eat your food first, Louis.”

Louis can do that.

+++

“Did anyone do their lit homework this weekend?” Niall asks, dropping his tray down on the table. “I’m going to fail if I don’t find out what happened in chapters ten through fifteen.”

“Why don’t you just read them?” Liam asks. “Or at least skim through them.”

“Or SparkNotes them,” Louis says, pulling a face when Liam glares at him. “What? If he doesn’t want to read the book then he’s not going to, so why not tell him to use something that’ll actually summarize it for him.”

“Because it’s against the rules. We’re supposed to read it. SparkNotes won’t have all the answers to the quiz.”

“It’ll have some of them,” Louis says. “Niall, listen to me and not Liam. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“So like, this website does the homework for me? Is that what you’re saying?” Niall asks with interest. “I mean, I’ll write all the answers down but it’ll do the assignment for me?”

Louis laughs, shaking his head as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “No, but it’ll tell you what you decided not to read.”

“Niall, you shouldn’t do something like that,” Liam starts to say and Louis tunes him out, not really caring to listen to another one of Liam’s lectures about how important it is to not fail your classes because you’re lazy.

Instead of listening, Louis sends a text to Zayn.

_What are you doing tonight?_

**_homework, why ?_ **

**_same i do evry nite_**

_Hmm… go out with me instead._

**_yeh alright. going home w h so.._**

_I’ll pick you up at 7!_

**_xx :)_ **

+++

Louis doesn’t take Zayn anywhere fancy. One because it’s a school night, two because as much as he wanted to go out with Zayn, he’s still not very good at picking places to go. Whatever, Zayn doesn’t seem to complain when they pull into the parking lot of a breakfast diner across the street from the movie theatre. It’s quiet and filled mostly with families and not teenagers like Louis is used to seeing it, but then again, he doesn’t usually come here except over the weekends in the middle of the night.

“I’m going to ask you something but you have to promise not to think anything of it, okay?”

“Okay,” Louis says slowly, watching Zayn carefully. “I can’t promise anything, but yeah. I guess I promise.”

“Do you know anyone named Nick Grimshaw?” Louis’ raises an eyebrow. “Just answer the question.”

“No, not really. I know that he went to our school last year and now he’s off somewhere doing something, who knows what. I don’t really care, why?”

Zayn sighs and looks a bit annoyed that Louis didn’t have anymore information to give him. “Harry’s been talking to him and like, he won’t tell me anything.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“I guess I’m just curious about him. My best friend is talking to him so I’d like to know more than just his name.”

Louis snorts and chuckles at that. “You and Harry must have a lot in common,” Louis says, lifting up his glass to take a drink.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Zayn asks. He doesn't sound offended, mostly confused and a bit curious.

“Nothing, it’s just, you and Harry both kind of have this weird best friend thing going on.”

“Weird? What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re sitting here worried about some guy that Harry is talking to, while Harry sits in class and worries about some guy that you’re talking.”

“I’m not talking to any guy,” Zayn says defensively, sitting up straighter and looking at Louis.

“I was talking about me,” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “Harry and I have zoology together, right?” Zayn nods, his hackles lowering slightly. “He’s always doing that protective best friend thing. He asks me about talking to you. I think he tried to threaten me not that long ago? I’m not sure. It’s Harry so it mostly felt like my grandma when she tries to tell me off.”

“He threatened you?”

“No. Well, I don’t think so. Maybe?”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing, he said you’re his best friend and if someone is talking to his best friend—actually he called you his Liam.”

“His Liam?”

“Yeah, like. I think he used it for a comparison so I could understand,” Louis explains, breathing out harshly. He feels like he hasn’t taken a proper breath since they started talking about Harry and Zayn got that weird look in his eyes. “It was just his way of saying best friend, because everyone knows how I act when Liam gets a girlfriend.”

“I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean,” Zayn mumbles, looking even more confused. “Do you get like, jealous or something?”

“No I just—“ Louis shrugs, it’s a bit embarrassing now. “Liam says I get a bit motherly. Like, I kind of interrogate his girlfriends in a weird way to figure out their intentions. It’s not on purpose, it’s just what happens.”

“That’s kind of weird,” Zayn says but he’s smiling, so Louis thinks he must not be angry or concerned, which is good.

“I just don’t trust anyone with Liam. And I think that’s what Harry was trying to say to me,” Louis tells him. “I don’t think Harry really trusts me with you, so he’s doing that weird best friend thing. Except he’s not a mother, he’s more like an angry father whose daughter is dating some horny teenager. Something like that.”

Zayn stares at Louis for a moment, processing all of the information that Louis just threw at him in a matter of minutes. Their food comes as he thinks, their waitress dropping their plates down in front of them before she leaves them alone again.

“It’s not you that Harry has a problem with,” Zayn clarifies first. “You’re both friends, so I know he doesn’t actually have a problem with us talking.”

“But?”

“But I’m going to talk to him and make sure he understands that I’m fully capable of deciding who I can and can’t talk to. Along with who I can and can’t have…feelings for, or whatever.”

“I’m not trying to get him in trouble,” Louis says. “I just thought it was kind of funny that you both try to—I don’t know, protect each other in the same way.”

“I wouldn’t actually say anything to Nick, though. Well, not until he did something really shitty. I just wanted to know something about him since Harry is tight-lipped about this whole thing.”

“Maybe it’s not serious. Maybe that’s why he’s not saying anything,” Louis says. He bites back the part that wants to ask if they’re serious, if that’s why Harry has said something to him.

Zayn shrugs. “I don’t have a clue. I guess maybe I’ll just trust Harry with this one,” he says. “I’ll look like a hypocrite if I go behind his back to find out info on the guy and yell at him about threatening you.”

“Kind of threatening me. He never actually said anything, just made me feel like he might snap my neck.”

“If you can’t take Harry in a fight then you need to start going to boxing lessons with Liam,” Zayn laughs and Louis pouts, offended. “I’m serious. Harry knows how to throw a punch but he’d be the first to back down from a fight after someone said ow.”

“I’m a lover not a fighter,” Louis says primly, unfolding his napkin to get his silverware. “All I’ll have to do is bat my eyelashes and blow him a kiss, that’ll stop him.”

Zayn is still laughing from his side of the booth; his eyes wrinkled shut and hand clutching at his stomach. It’s not as funny as he’s trying to make it out to be, but Louis likes the sound of his laugh, so he doesn’t say anything, just picks up one of his sausages and takes a bite out of it, watching Zayn intently.

“You know, you’re one of the funniest people I’ve ever met,” Zayn wheezes out, wiping the tears out of his eyes. “All I could picture was Harry jumping around in a boxing stance while you’re across from him blowing kisses.”

“I’m glad you find me so amusing.”

“I’m glad you’re so amusing.”

“I’m glad you’re glad that I’m so amusing.”

“Is this one of those I love you, I love you more moments without the I love you’s?”

Louis shakes his head. “It’s more of a you hang up first moment, I think.”

“In that case I’m definitely hanging up now, because I’m starving,” Zayn says, grabbing his fork and knife so that he can stab at his pancakes. Louis nods once and follows suit, grabbing another piece of sausage.

+++

Harry is waiting outside of their zoology class when Louis gets there. He’s three parts nervous and one part wondering if he should find a place to hide and wait until Harry goes into class. There’s really no reason to be nervous, but he knows without a doubt that Harry knows Louis went out with Zayn last night. And he should also know that Louis returned him safely back home, mark free…unless you count his red lips. Louis doesn’t.

Harry’s spots him, of course he does, so Louis inhales deeply and carries on.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you,” Harry says, catching Louis by the elbow as he tries to slip into class. “Come here.”

“Does this involve one of those scary best friend routines that you’ve got going on lately? Because I have to tell you that I didn’t do anything,” Louis starts off, ready to argue his way out of being told off. “And Zayn agreed to go, there was no forcing. Also, he can defend himself. He beat me with a book one time.”

“Stop talking,” Harry says, pressing his hand over Louis’ mouth. “You’re rambling. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I’ve been an ass to you.”

Oh. That’s definitely not what he expected. Harry lowers his hand slowly, looking at Louis like he doesn't want him to talk just yet. Louis can do that, especially if Harry’s going to be throwing around apologies.

“Zayn told me about your conversation at dinner last night.”

“I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble,” Louis tells him quickly. He doesn’t mention how Zayn acted just like him because he’s not sure if Harry knows about that, and he doesn't want to get Zayn in trouble. “I thought he’d forget that I mentioned it.”

“Well, I’ve been sworn to either never talk to you again or to stop acting like his mother. I figured I’d go with the latter and just trust the fact that I know you’re a good guy and that Zayn can take care of himself.”

“He can,” Louis says, listening to the bell ring, letting them know that they need to get to class quickly. “He beat me with a book in the library when I snuck up on him.”

Harry laughs, a loud barking sound that echoes in the empty hallway. “He doesn’t like being scared.”

“I know that now,” Louis cries, allowing Harry to throw an arm over his shoulder and pull him into class.

+++

Louis’ lit class takes a trip to the library later in the week, and Louis complains about it the entire walk there, forcing Liam and Niall to listen to him about how he doesn’t want to go to the library, he wants to nap at his desk and pretend that they don’t have an assignment.

“Will you shut up?” Liam asks, exasperated. Louis frowns, glaring at him. “Your boyfriend’s over there. Go and bother him.”

Louis perks up, whipping around to see Zayn sat on one of the reading couches in the back. There’s a book in his hand and Louis feels stupidly fond because Zayn actually uses the library to read and he speaks library and he’s wearing Louis’ shirt that he went home in last weekend and he’s just—

“I’ll see you later boys,” Louis says, waving at them but not looking at them. He’s too busy watching Zayn. If he looks away then Zayn could have a chance to get up and move around the library, which means Louis will have to navigate the stacks in search of him. He’d much rather lie on that couch with his head in Zayn’s lap and get the nap he was going to take with his face pressed against his desk.

This is so much better.

Zayn doesn’t look up as Louis approaches, so Louis says, “It’s just me and please don’t hit me with that book.” He drops down on the couch next to Zayn and smiles, enjoying the shocked expression on Zayn’s face.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Technically I am.”

“Technically?”

“We’re spending the day in the library, but I’m spending this time here,” Louis says, patting the couch for emphasis. “What are you doing here?”

“I finished our assignment two days ago so my teacher has been letting me leave class while everyone else finishes it.”

“And you chose to come to the library?”

“Yes?” Zayn mumbles.

“You’re such a nerd,” Louis says, scooting closer to Zayn. He drops his head down on Zayn’s shoulder and swings a leg over Zayn’s, making himself comfortable. “My nerd, though, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Zayn mutters and Louis can feel him shake his head. “Are you actually going to let me read or are you going to talk the entire time?”

Louis thinks about it for a moment. Or pretends to, anyway. He’s perfectly fine sitting in silence with Zayn but he hasn’t seen him in two days so he’s feeling lame and clingy, wanting to absorb his missed daily doses of Zayn while he can.

“I can be quiet,” Louis says finally, because he knows that Zayn wants to read, even if he’d rather cuddle and make everyone in the library watch them. Zayn gives him a look. “I can. I swear.”

“Alright,” Zayn says. “Put your head in my lap, it’ll make it easier for me to read.”

Louis grins and curls up like a kitten against Zayn, closing his eyes and relishing in the sound of Zayn’s quiet laughter.

Louis thinks it must mean a lot that he’s willing to lie here in silence so that Zayn can do something he enjoys. It’s a silly thought, but one that Louis thinks is important to this kind of together-kind of not relationship that they have going on.

+++

Louis’ comes out of halftime feeling better than he has all season. They’re winning again, practically killing the other team with how far ahead they are, but they’re not going to stop. Everything about this game is clicking into place for them, all his teammates are finally on the same page, and Louis’ foot hasn’t betrayed him once tonight with any of his kicks.

It’s an amazing feeling and Louis can’t stop screaming from the sidelines and cheering on his team. Liam is on fire, throwing successful pass after successful pass and Louis could kiss him for carrying them as well as he is.

The only downside to the game is that Zayn’s not here. In fact, Louis hasn’t seen anyone with a camera all night. It’s a bit annoying, to know that they’re finally doing well after a two-game losing streak. Someone should be here taking pictures of this.

“Liam,” Louis shouts, jumping on his best friend as soon as he reaches the sidelines. “You’re amazing. Did you know that? The best on the field.”

Liam laughs, wrapping an arm around Louis as he carries him towards the bench. “And you’re the heaviest.”

“Oh shut up,” Louis says, dropping down on the ground and passing Liam a water bottle. “But you’re doing great.”

“Thanks.” Liam tips the bottle in a sort of salute before he wraps his mouth around the rim. Louis throws an arm around his shoulder and pulls him in a one-armed hug. “We’re doing good.”

“We’re kicking ass,” Louis corrects. “I feel a bit bad about how badly they’re losing, though.”

“No you don’t,” Liam laughs.

“You’re right,” Louis grins, ruffling Liam’s sweaty hair. “I don’t.”

“Well, I’m glad to see that you’re so happy,” Liam says. “But is there a reason you’re not talking to Zayn? Are you mad at each other? Is that why you’re so invested in this game?”

“What are you talking about?” Louis asks, confused. He texted Zayn before the game, made Zayn send him good luck so that they would win tonight and he wouldn’t ruin things for the team. Zayn had replied back with a picture of himself making a pouty face that Louis’ assumes was supposed to be a kissy face. Kisses for good luck, or something like that. “Did Zayn say something to you?”

Liam shakes his head and points behind Louis, going back to drinking his water. Louis spins around and sees Zayn several yards away, camera pressed to his face as he takes pictures. What a little shit. It’s an away game, so Louis has spent this entire game thinking that he wouldn’t get to see Zayn, but there he is, taking pictures like he always does.

Louis resists the urge to tackle him to the ground and sit on him until Zayn explains why he’s here. He settles instead for sneaking up on him, wrapping his arms around him with confidence because Zayn is definitely not going to beat him with his camera.

“Care to explain what you’re doing here, Malik?”

Zayn laughs as he lowers the camera, tilting his head a bit to look at Louis. “Was wondering when you were going to notice me,” he says. “And Harry talked to Niall, got him to drive me here since he was coming.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you. Are you surprised?”

“I’m fucking elated,” Louis clarifies, letting go of Zayn so that he can turn around and face him properly. “I was looking for someone to be taking pictures but I didn’t see you. I can’t believe I didn’t see you.”

“You seemed pretty excited about the game, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“That’s because we’re winning.”

“I know, I’ve been here. And I saw you kick.”

“I didn’t fuck up this time.”

“You didn’t fuck up last time,” Zayn sighs, rolling his eyes. “I told you, the wind was off that day.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Louis laughs, winding his arms around Zayn’s waist. “Coach is gonna kill me for being over here with you.”

“Do you care?” Zayn asks.

“Not in the least, but I’d like it more if you went over to the bench with me anyway. I don’t want to get told off when we’re doing good.”

Zayn nods and follows him, allowing Louis’ to link their fingers together as they walk together. Zayn doesn’t sit on the bench like Louis wanted to do with him; instead he goes back to taking pictures while Louis goes back to screaming and cheering for the game taking place in front of him.

Several minutes pass before Louis realizes that Zayn’s not taking pictures of the game but rather of him. Zayn doesn’t even try to hide it when Louis turns to look at him, just keeps clicking away at the camera, snapping picture after picture.

“Don’t you have a job that you should be doing?”

“I do,” Zayn says. “But I think I’ve got enough for one game.”

“So what are you doing now?”

Zayn grins from behind the camera, his already closed eye wrinkling even more with the action. “I’m working on my private collection.”

Louis laughs, remembering what he said to Zayn the first day they met. He laughs until the crowd behind him screams, forcing his attention back to the game. Zayn’s attention stays on him, but that’s the way Louis likes it.

+++

After the game Zayn and Louis say goodbye, Louis being forced to take the bus back with the rest of the team and Zayn going off with Niall. They meet back up at their own school, after Louis has changed out of his uniform and into a pair of sweatpants and a jacket.

Zayn and Niall are waiting in the parking lot for them, Niall’s car parked next to Louis’. Louis throws himself on Zayn when they reach them, shifting his body weight so that Zayn is partially holding him upright.

“You’re heavy,” Zayn groans. “I’m going to drop you.”

“You’re the second person to say that to me tonight,” Louis says, standing up and leaning against Zayn, this time using his body weight to keep himself firmly planted to the ground. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”

“You should always be offended,” Niall says. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about, but be offended.”

“You’re both overdramatic,” Zayn mutters. “And don’t try to argue that point.”

“Fine. I won't,” Louis says. “All I was going to do was ask if you’re coming back to mine.”

“I’ll have to talk to my mom, but I don’t see why not.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Ask her.”

Zayn rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone. Louis pulls away to allow him the opportunity to use his hands to type and send the message.

“What are you three going to do tonight?” Louis asks.

“What do you mean us three?” says Liam, leaning against Niall’s car with an unimpressed look on his face.

“I mean you, Niall, and Harry. What are you three going to do tonight?”

“Us five are going out for burgers,” Harry clarifies.

“No, because us two are going back to my house.”

Harry shrugs. “You’re not, but okay,” he says. “I’m going to get my car. Figure out who’s riding with who.”

They end up going to get burgers with the other three. Louis tries very hard to get Zayn to see the wonderful potential of post game kissing in his bed, but Zayn’s stomach won’t hear anything about it. And to make matters worse Zayn gets into Harry’s car with a grin on his face, knowing that Louis is going to follow. Liam decides to ride with Niall to avoid listening to Louis whine the entire ride, which is probably for his own good because he throws himself a fantastic pity party for part of the ride there. The other part is spent thinking about what a good idea it is to fill his body up with energy because Louis definitely has plans to spend all of his time in bed with Zayn later on tonight.

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Zayn says, arm resting on the back of Louis’ chair when he sits down. “Should I be worried?”

“You should be excited,” Louis says. “Where is my menu? Why don’t we have menus?”

“We ordered for everyone,” Harry explains. “Less waiting time this way.”

“Less waiting time which means we eat quicker and we get to go home quicker.”

“Will you shut up about going home?” Niall says, dropping down next to Louis. “Where the fuck is the menu?”

“Food’s on the way, shut up,” Harry says. “You act like they sell anything besides burgers and fries.”

“They sell shakes and sodas,” Liam says, shrugging when Harry looks at him. “Did you guys order drinks?”

“I got you a shake,” Zayn says to Louis. “Chocolate, like you got that one time.”

“You’re my favorite.” Louis smiles at him and Zayn wrinkles his nose back. “Honestly, my absolute favorite.”

“I also got you cheese with your fries.”

Louis reaches over and pulls Zayn’s face towards him, pressing a loud kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“Hey,” Niall shouts, snapping his fingers in their direction. “I don’t wanna see none of that. No couple shit while we’re eating.”

“Any of that,” Zayn corrects, carding his fingers through Louis’ hair at the base of his neck. “And good thing there’s no food here, then.”

“You’re not gonna catch me on a technicality,” Niall mutters. “I don’t want to see it. I’m single and alone and if anyone is going to make out with someone at this table then it’s gonna be me.”

Harry makes a face, leaning back further in his seat. “Keep your mouth away from me.”

Liam slides his chair away from Niall, frowning. “I just wanted to get something to eat.”

“I’m not talking about you. I’m just saying--”

“That if anyone at the table gets to make out it’s us,” Louis finishes, turning to smile at the waitress as she sets a few glasses of water down on the table along with the milkshakes Zayn order for them.

“Your food will be out in a minute, dears,” she says before walking away from them.

“What kind did you get?” Louis asks, already reaching for the straw in Zayn’s shake to get a taste. “Is that—What is that?”

“It’s some kind of cookie thing, it’s supposed to taste like peanut butter.”

Louis shrugs. It’s really not that great, but he’s not going to tell Zayn that. Instead he drops a hand in Zayn’s lap, watching as their waitress arrives with their food. He keeps his hand there for the majority of his meal, listening as Niall tries to talk about new plays that he think might be able to work out on the field. The last time they tried one of his plays Liam almost broke his neck, so yeah, coach definitely isn’t going to allow another ‘play by Horan’ out on the field.

+++

Zayn’s skin feels smooth beneath Louis’ fingers. He’s always amazed at how soft Zayn’s skin is, but more importantly, he’s even more impressed with the way Zayn’s scrawny arms are able to pin him down to the bed as he kisses him. Louis could probably get out of it. Maybe. No, yeah, he definitely could if his mind was in the right place.

Louis has never been happier to have a mother who works nights and a father that takes his sisters when she does work.

Zayn breaks the kiss to attach his lips to the base of Louis’ neck, and Louis groans in appreciation. This is definitely how Louis imagined their night going when he found out that Zayn was at his game.

He uses his knee to spread Zayn’s legs open a bit more, just enough for him to slot his own leg between them and stroke his thigh gently upwards, right against the bulge in Zayn’s boxers that forces a guttural moan out of him.

“You’re playing dirty,” Zayn mumbles, fingers clutching at Louis’ hips. “I thought we were kissing.”

“We are. Lots of kissing,” Louis says. He emphasizes the point with a kiss to the side of Zayn’s head, the only place he can access at this point. He’d like to press kisses on all kinds of places, if only he could get Zayn to let him up. “But I can stop if you want. If you’re not comfortable.”

Zayn grounds his lips down in answer, teeth grazing Louis’ skin at the same time. “Didn’t say that, just thought we were being lazy tonight since it’s two in the morning.”

“It’s never too late. My mom won’t be home until seven; we have like, five hours.”

“If you can last five hours I’ll be amazed.”

Louis grins, enjoying the sound of the challenge even though he knows that Zayn’s right.

They kiss for what feels like hours, until Louis’ eyes start to feel too heavy to continue. Until the kisses change from frantic to languid, as the movements of their hips send a wave of pleasure through the both of them. And Louis knows he’s tired when he doesn’t make a comment about how they both came in their boxers, turning the situation into some type of joke. They kiss until Zayn demands they get cleaned up and then get back into bed.

Louis falls asleep legs thrown over Zayn and arm resting on the other boy’s pillow as they drift off, hours before the sun is set to rise.

+++

Homecoming week comes as a shock when Louis walks into school on Monday. He hadn’t known it was coming up, at least not so soon. But as he walks into the doors of school he sees the signs on the walls telling them that homecoming is one week away and that they can get their tickets at lunch. Signs telling them that their theme is _Lost in Paris_ , whatever that means.

Louis hasn’t been to a dance since his freshman year. He went with a girl named Katie that Liam set him up with before he confessed to his friend that Katie…well, she was nice and all but definitely not the type of person that Louis was interested in. They spent the entire dance sitting next to each other in an awkward silence before Katie ran off with her friends.

After that Louis just wasn’t interested in going. He didn’t have anyone that he wanted to go with, unlike Liam who always had a date, or Niall who was happy to jump around between different groups. Going without a date didn’t sound that great and going with Niall just to crash on other people’s good times didn’t sound all that great either.

So Louis stayed at home, pretending that homecoming wasn’t happening, that prom wasn’t happening, and that he wasn’t at all jealous of the people that were there.

But things could be different this year.

This year Louis has Zayn. This year Louis thinks he might not miss out on his final chance to go to homecoming, especially if it means walking into the gymnasium with a suit clad Zayn on his arm.

+++

“Did either of you know that it was homecoming week?” Louis asks, sitting down at lunch in his usual seat across from Liam and next to Niall. “I feel like I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower fifty times today.”

“That’s because there’s a poster every three feet,” Niall grumbles. “I thought it wasn’t for another two weeks.”

“I thought I heard them mention it last week. I’m not sure, but I think it was during a morning announcement.”

“Would understand why I didn’t know about it. I don’t usually listen to those,” Louis says. “I definitely know about it now, though.”

“A week isn’t long enough to find a date,” Niall complains, shaking his head before he takes a bite of his sandwich. “I don’t even know who to ask, I have no time to think about it. They’re setting me up for failure.”

“Since when do you need a date?”

“Just because I don’t have one doesn’t mean I don’t want one. I just can never find the right person to ask.”

“Is there any girl that you’ve been thinking about a lot lately?” Liam asks, sounding like Louis’ mother when she was trying to figure out just who exactly Zayn was without actually asking him outright if he liked Zayn. “You should ask her.”

“There is no one,” Niall sighs. “Who are you asking?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about this girl in my algebra class, Sophia.”

“Sophia? Which one?” Louis asks.

“Smith.”

Niall curses, slamming his hand down on the table. “She was one of my options.”

“What options? A second ago you didn’t have any,” Louis says.

“Well, I just remembered her when Liam said the name Sophia and then he beat me to saying her last name.”

“You could both ask her.”

Niall sighs and shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to hurt Liam’s feelings when she picks me. I’ll find someone else.”

“Thanks for that,” Liam mumbles. Louis isn’t sure if he’s offended or not. It’s hard to tell when he’s pouting at his macaroni like it’s the one trying to take the girl he likes to a school dance.

“What about Barbara? Do you think I could get her to go with me?”

Louis snorts, knowing exactly who Niall is talking about. “No. Not a chance in hell she’ll go anywhere in public with you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re ugly,” Louis says. Niall laughs but doesn’t take offense. Louis is only half joking. Barbara is one of the prettiest girls in school.

“Well, you’re ugly next to Zayn and no one calls you out on it,” Niall says, turning back to his food. “Besides, I’ve got two classes with her and drive her home sometimes, so it could happen. It’d be as a friends thing, anyway.”

“Just ask her Niall,” Liam encourages, no longer pouting at his food. “And also, while we’re talking about Zayn, are you taking him, Louis?”

“I haven’t talked to him about it. I haven’t even seen him today. But maybe, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I won’t really know until I talk to him, will I?” Louis says.

“But don’t couples just like, automatically go to these things together?” Niall says.

Louis shrugs. He’s not really sure if he and Zayn are even a couple. He knows they’re something. Something that doesn’t involve other people, but they’ve never really talked about labels. Not like Louis needs a label, but it makes times like this just a bit more complicated. Maybe he’ll ask Zayn about it later.

+++

“You know what the rules are, finish your homework and then you can try to shove your hand down my pants,” Zayn says with a laugh, gently prying Louis’ hands off him.

Louis grins at him, fingers curling around Zayn’s thigh as Zayn ignores him for his history book. Louis has been trying for nearly twenty minutes to get Zayn to pay attention to him. Nothing has worked. This is the first time that Zayn’s said a word to him since they opened their homework.

Zayn sighs, leaning back in his chair and finally turning to look at Louis. “You really are persistent, aren’t you?”

“Studying is boring,” Louis says.

“You invited me over to study,” Zayn reminds him. “You asked if I was busy, I said I needed to do my homework, you said come and do it at my place.”

“Well, I’d rather study you.” Louis bats his eyelashes as he says it, trying to smile in a way that’ll hopefully appeal to whatever part of Zayn wants Louis more than he wants to study.

“That’s the worst line I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“It’s not a line. It’s solid facts. I’m sure you’ll find it in that history book somewhere.”

Zayn rolls his eyes and hits the button on his phone to light the screen up. He stares at the time, licking his lips. “We really do need to study,” he says, looking away from his phone to Louis. “But I can give you an hour.”

Louis grins, jumping and grabbing Zayn by his shirt to pull him towards the bed. He locks the door just in case and then moves to sit down on Zayn’s lap, straddling him and feeling like he’s won the battle and the war at the same time.

“You’re smug,” Zayn says, running his thumb along Louis’ jaw. “It’s a good look for you.”

“Not smug, just happy you’re finally seeing things my way. As you should,” Louis tells him before connecting their lips together. Zayn smiles into the kiss and Louis can almost taste the fond on him. It sends a shiver down his spine to know how wrapped up he is with Zayn, but more so to know that Zayn feels the same way.

It sends the same thoughts from earlier back into his mind, the are they or aren’t they a couple question that really needs to be asked. At some point, it doesn’t need to be asked when Zayn is lying back on the bed and pulling Louis down with him.

It doesn’t need to be asked but that doesn’t mean Louis stops thinking about it. It’s like a CD that won’t stop skipping, repeating the same bits of the same song over and over again. Louis’ mind won’t focus on anything, not the feeling of Zayn’s fingers dipping underneath his shirt, roaming over his skin. He doesn’t think about the goose bumps or the deep curl of arousal in his stomach as Zayn bucks his hips against Louis’. It’s all there, every little thing that Louis wanted to do with Zayn, but…

But Louis’ mind is stuck on if they’re a couple and homecoming and if they’re going to go together and how they would dress if they go. It’s not the best thought process to have when he’s so, so close to getting the pleasure that he’s been thinking about since he saw Zayn.

“Hey, hey,” Louis says, pulling away to try and talk it out. Zayn doesn’t seem deterred by this, continuing to kiss Louis. “Did you know that homecoming was coming up?”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it in yearbook,” Zayn says, somehow managing to kiss Louis and talk at the same time. “They’ve been trying to assign people to take pictures for them.”

“Doesn’t the teacher usually do it?”

“Yeah, but sometimes students volunteer if they don’t feel like going or they haven’t got a date and don’t want to look bad.”

“Have you ever done it?”

“Nope,” Zayn mumbles against Louis’ neck, sucking a mark into the skin there. Louis’ mom is going to kill him when she sees it. But then again Louis doesn’t care, as long as Zayn doesn’t ever stop rotating his hips in the way that’s making Louis’ head spin. “And do you really think now is the best time to be asking about this?”

“I don’t know, I was just thinking about it.”

“While we’re—“

“I’m not thinking about it to get hard or some shit, I just wanted to ask you about it and happened to remember right now.”

Zayn hums, licking up Louis’ neck. “Do you think we can have this conversation later? It’s kind of making me soft.”

Louis snorts and he really wants to argue that they should totally be having this conversation now before he forgets, but then Zayn’s hand is dipping into his sweatpants, his fingers wrapping around Louis’ cock and that—

Louis’ brain short circuits, forgetting everything that’s happened merely seconds ago to focus on what’s happening in this moment, just like Zayn wanted.

“Thought that’d shut you up,” Zayn says smugly and Louis growls, attaching his lips to Zayn’s because if he’s shutting up then so is Zayn. Plus Louis kind of – a lot – wants Zayn to focus on what he’s doing with his hand, his marvelous, wonderful, amazing, lovely, magnificent hand on his aching cock. 

+++

“I know that technically you’re not allowed to talk about mine and Zayn’s kind of relationship with me, but can I ask you a question?” Louis says, ignoring the lab that they’re supposed to be working on. Something’s are more important than high school science. Actually, all things are but he’s not going to get into that.

“It depends on what it is.”

“See, I knew you were going to say that,” Louis says.

“I mean that I’m not going to answer anything that’s going to piss Zayn off. Your record for keeping our conversations to yourself is minimal,” Harry says, looking up from the microscope to stare at Louis. “But shoot, what’s your question?”

“Homecoming.”

“What about it?”

Louis releases a deep breath, feeling a bit ridiculous that he has to go to his not-quite-boyfriend’s best friend to figure this out. “How would Zayn feel about going?”

Harry shrugs. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I tried it, and I’d tell you what followed but I’m fairly certain you don’t want to know about that.”

“You’re more than right about that,” Harry mumbles, running his fingers through his hair in an agitated gesture. “But I really don’t know how Zayn would feel about that. We’ve never really talked about it before.”

“Has he ever been to a school dance before?”

“Freshman year when we thought we were cool to show up without a date and stalk the beverages.”

“Just the once then?”

Harry nods. “He’s not really a big fan of dancing. You can try and get him to do it, but it’s not his most favorite thing in the world. And he’s fairly stubborn so if he doesn’t want to do something then he won’t.”

“But if I asked him, do you think he’d go with me?” Louis asks, because that’s what he really cares to know about. He can handle the rejection from Harry. He definitely cannot handle the rejection from Zayn. Louis’ ego is far too delicate for that and he will hide in his room and book plan tickets to another country where he’ll change his name and spend all his time with llamas.

“Maybe,” Harry says sympathetically, shrugging. “I can’t answer that, unfortunately. You’ll just have to present it in a way that sounds appealing to him.”

Right. Louis can do that. He’s not sure what’s more appealing than trying to ask someone something with their hand wrapped around your cock, but whatever. He can get creative if need be.

+++

Louis presses Zayn up against his car when he sees him, kissing him in greeting. Zayn pulls away from it making a face, nudging Louis towards his side of the car.

“You smell like sweat,” Zayn tells him in explanation.

“You’re supposed to say something sweet to me, like you smell like roses and honey and like you’re falling in love,” Louis teases, unlocking the car and getting in. “Sweat’s not very romantic and I’m definitely upset that I kissed you when you’re handing out insults.”

“When you smell like honey and roses then I’ll tell you that. Right now you smell like you’ve been rolling around with a bunch of guys.”

“Oh,” Louis says, nodding. “I see. Would you rather I roll around with you?”

“Think you already do that, babe,” Zayn says, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers through Louis’ hair. “And you definitely don’t smell like you do now. You’re still my favorite, though.”

“Damn right I am,” Louis says, getting a laugh out of Zayn. “And as your favorite, I want to know your thoughts on homecoming.”

“Are you sure this isn’t your idea of like, foreplay or something? First you’re thinking about it when I’m three seconds from trying to get you off. And now you want to talk about it after mentioning rolling around with me.”

“Oh god, are you ever going to let me live about that?” Louis says, turning to glare at Zayn. “I was barely hard when we had that conversation and my brain melted shortly afterwards so I wanted to talk about it when I’m of sound mind.”

“Sound mind.”

“Yes. Now tell me your thoughts.”

“I don’t have any thoughts,” Zayn says. “I don’t, stop looking at me like that. It’s a school dance; it’s not a political issue, what is there to think?”

“I don’t know have you ever gone to one?” Louis asks, even though he already knows the answer. It’s probably not best to mention that he’s talked to Harry about this. Louis isn’t sure of Zayn’s reaction, and that sends a spike of guilt through him. If he doesn’t know how Zayn will react then it means he shouldn’t have said anything. But it’s too late to change the past.

“Once, when Harry and I thought we were cool.”

“And then reality bit you in the ass, huh? My cute nerd finally realized he’s not cool. I’m sad I missed it.”

“Yeah, laugh it up. Your mom has your homecoming picture hanging up on the walls. Don’t forget I see that every time I come over to your house.”

“Then you’re banned from my house. There, problem solved,” Louis jokes, listening to Zayn laugh. God, Louis will never get over that sound. Or the accompanying nose wrinkle. “But what about going now? Now that you know you’re not cool?”

“I guess if I had a reason to go. I don’t really have a reason right now, so who knows.”

Louis’ brows pull together as he thinks about that. He’s not sure what that means, if Zayn’s hinting that he wants to be asked or not. Louis kind of hopes so, because the more he thinks about taking Zayn the more his stomach does this weird fluttery thing that happens usually only when he catches Zayn staring at him when he thinks Louis won’t notice, or when he goes over to Zayn’s house and plays video games while Zayn reads one of his comic books.

Louis doesn’t get a chance to ask about it because Zayn is changing the subject to his history exam and how he thinks he did on it. Louis feels like he missed an opportunity.

+++

To say Louis doesn't obsess over Zayn’s words yesterday would be a lie. Louis obsesses, very much so. So much so that he thinks his fingers might go raw from how badly he was chewing on them all night and that there is probably an indentation in his carpet where he walked for hours – figurative, not literal – thinking about what Zayn could have possibly meant by what he said.

Louis had thought about texting him the night before, but every one of those thoughts was met with a groan and an angry tug at his hair because he doesn’t need Zayn to spell out his cryptic phrases. Louis can figure them out on his own. He can. He really and truly can.

And after spending all night thinking about it, the only conclusion that Louis can come up with is that Zayn is waiting to be asked. It all makes sense, really. Zayn thinks that he doesn’t have a reason to go because Louis hasn’t asked.

Hopefully that’s what it is. Louis is fairly positive that’s what Zayn meant.

He just hopes he’s right.

“Louis,” Liam says, waving his hand in front of Louis’ face. Louis blinks, turning to look at him. “You alright? Spaced out for a second.”

“What? Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking,” Louis says, offering Liam a smile. “What were you two saying?

“I was asking you if buying homecoming tickets means that you’re taking Zayn.”

“I’m going to ask him after I buy them,” Louis tells him, slapping his wallet. They’re waiting in line at the front of the cafeteria for tickets. There’s a tug in Louis’ gut as they wait and he can’t figure out what it means. If he’s nervous because he’s going to be taking Zayn to homecoming, or well he will be if Zayn agrees. Or if he’s nervous because Zayn might not want to go with him and Louis has been reading things between them all wrong this whole time. “It’s kind of surprise.”

“Oh, I bet he’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Louis tries to smile, but he can feel his heart rattling inside of him as they take another step forward. “What about you? Did you find a date?”

“Yeah. I talked to Sophia. She seemed really excited about it. Apparently she’s already bought a dress.”

“So she knew that this was happening before Monday?”

Liam shrugs. “I think people start shopping for dresses, like the year before or something. I’m not sure.”

Louis nods, that sounds reasonable. His mom and sisters are always taking forever to get ready when they go somewhere or when they’re out shopping, sometimes trying on thirty-something shirts and not buying a single one of them.

“Does that mean you’re going to do that weird thing where your tie matches her dress?”

“She said to just wear a black tie, since she doesn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Then how are you going to know what color flower her corsage should be?”

Liam goes to open his mouth and then passes. He looks horrified for a second, staring at Louis and then running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t. That’s a thing, right? That’s a very important thing, isn’t it? Oh god. It’s not even the dance and I’ve already ruined everything for her,” Liam whines, his mouth turning down and his eyes drooping in this terrible sort of pout. “I’ll just have to buy one in every color.”

“You will not.”

“I will to,” Liam protests.

“Just ask her about it, it’s not a big deal,” Louis says, shaking his head and taking another step forward. One more person left between him and the tickets. “Where’s Niall at anyway?”

“He’s at the table. He bought his ticket yesterday during another lunch.”

“How did he manage that?”

Liam shrugs and then finally it’s their turn. Louis takes one step forward and then requests two tickets as he opens his wallet. He had to beg his mom for most of this money and it’s hard watching as it’s exchanged for two light pink pieces of paper with black ink on them.

Well, no going back now.

+++

Louis gets changed faster than anyone else after practice, no longer feeling nervous about having to ask Zayn about homecoming. He’s excited instead. Almost giddy as he runs out of the locker room still putting on his shoes as he goes.

Zayn’s waiting for him at his car, leaned up against the passenger side and staring down at his phone. It means that he doesn’t see Louis barreling towards him, one shoe in his hand and the other on his foot. Zayn startles when Louis reaches him, kissing the side of Zayn’s face with a grin.

“Hello.”

“Why’ve you only got one shoe on?”

“I’m insulted that’s the first thing you noticed about me,” Louis says, stepping back to the shoe on his foot. “Happy?”

“Yes. And I only noticed because you slapped me in the thigh with it when you ran into me.”

“I’m trying to keep you on your toes,” Louis says, bopping him on the nose. He’s really so excited about this. He can’t wait to ask.

“Yeah, you’re full of surprises aren’t you,” Zayn mutters back, head tilted to the side and fond smile on his face.

“I am,” Louis agrees, nodding. “And so, because I am who I am. I have a surprise for you.”

“One that doesn’t involve running into me?”

“Yes.”

Zayn eyes narrow, standing up straighter. “What is it?”

Louis takes a deep breath and prepares himself because this is it. He almost wants to shout it but he knows that’s not going to make things go very well for him so instead he focuses, swallowing down the burst of emotion in his chest and takes another deep breath.

“Alright, so like, I don’t really know how you’re supposed to do this. I mean, I’ve never done it before so like, if there is a set way then I just don’t know it. So please forgive me if I do this wrong,” Louis says, sticking his hand into his pocket and pulling out the tickets. “I kind of bought us tickets to homecoming.”

“You what?” Zayn asks, confused, staring at Louis and not at the tickets.

“Yeah. I know I haven’t really asked properly but that’s what I’m trying to do now. I’ve been thinking about it all day, asking you. But like, that kind of felt weird,” Louis explains. “Like do I get down on one knee and ask you? Or do I just ask hey do you wanna go?”

“Usually that’s how it happens. The second way, the first is asking me to be your husband.”

“Right. So like. I don’t know. Do you want to go?”

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a long time. He stares down at the tickets in Louis’ hand, his expression unreadable as he analyzes the piece of paper. They begin to feel heavy and unwanted in Louis’ hand, almost shameful, like he shouldn’t have brought these. Like they’re something precious that he shouldn’t have shown to anyone else Zayn especially because now he’s just standing there staring at them. And the longer he stares at them the smaller Louis feels.

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole because it has to have been at least two minutes since he asked and while Louis has never asked anyone to a dance before, he’s almost certain a pause this long is a firm no.

“Right,” Louis says, snatching the tickets back and shoving them into his pocket. “Sorry. Um, I didn’t realize I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“Shouldn’t have asked that?”

“Yeah, you know. If you’re going to say no the least you could do is fucking say it. You don’t have to stand there and humiliate me.”

“I’m surprised,” Zayn says, his voice rising. “You went from asking me what I thought about homecoming to buying tickets for us and then confusing a lame high school dance with a proposal.”

“I’m sorry. People find outrageous ways to ask all the time.”

“For fucking prom,” Zayn says. “And I’m not saying there was anything wrong with your asking. Just—“

“Just that I asked at all. Right. Got it,” Louis says, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “You know. What the fuck did you mean by if you had a reason to go then you might go? Because I don’t speak cryptic bullshit.”

“I don’t know. It’s not really my scene. Like, dances are kind of lame. The people who go are—“

“Wanting to have a good time, Zayn. Why did you go your freshman year? Because you thought it would be fun,” Louis says. “I wasn’t asking you to go so you could stand by the punch bowl with me and pretend to be cool. I asked you to go because it’s a couples’ thing. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“We’re not even a couple,” Zayn shouts and then freezes, staring at Louis like he said the exact wrong thing. And he did. Louis thought—well, he knew they hadn’t explicitly confirmed they were indeed boyfriends but he had thought…

Louis shakes his head. It doesn't matter what he thought. He moves around the car and unlocks his door. His, not any other door and yanks it open.

There’s an ugly surge of emotions ripping through him and he needs to get out of here. If he stays then he’s going to say something he regrets, something he might not be able to take back. He doesn’t know what that might be but he will.

Zayn stares as he starts the car, taking a step away from it. Louis can see Harry walking out of the side of school and with the confirmation that Zayn’ll be fine, he leaves, the engine roaring as he does.

+++

The homecoming parade is the last thing that Louis wants to deal with right now, but he’s here, and he’s not going to dwell on anything other than what’s happening in this moment. It’s the best he can do.

Twenty-four hours after his and Zayn’s argument in the parking lot and Louis still isn’t ready to think about it. He had calmed enough by the time he got home to at least forget about it, but he’s not at the point where he rationalizes what happened.

He’ll get there…eventually.

In the meantime Louis helps straighten the skirt that Liam is wearing, adjusting it so that the zipper is as closed as they’re going to be able to get it. Unlike himself, Liam isn’t able to properly fit into one of the cheerleading outfits that they’re being forced to wear while they walk through the parade and then go to cheer on the girls’ powder-puff game.

Louis isn’t sure what is says about him that only he and two other players fit into the skirts, even with their basketball shorts on underneath. Which, sue him, he’s not taking them off while being asked to jump around. The last thing the people in the audience want to see are his balls when they slip out of his boxer shorts. So yeah, the basketball shorts are staying on no matter how ridiculous he looks.

“Do you think we should have worn a wig?” Liam asks, touching the ends of his hair self consciously as he turns around to look at Louis. “Or like, a bit of lipstick or something?”

“I think we should have been allowed to wear pants if we wanted to, but no. Wigs are dumb.”

“You should have grown your hair out, Liam,” Harry says, stepping in next to them. “Cheaper than a wig.”

“And not as lame.”

Liam’s hand reaches up and rubs at his head, frowning. “Just a bit off that we’re wearing these skirts and—what are these called? Crop tops? Yeah. It’s just weird.”

“That’s why it should be optional.”

“If you weren’t wearing a shirt under I wonder if your tits would fall out,” Harry says, tugging at Louis’ shirt. “It actually looks really nice on you.”

“I’m surprised it fits.”

“Oh shut up, both of you.” Louis rolls his eyes at the pair of them, wishing that they weren’t already walking through the street. If he could, he’d slip away from the crowd and hide next to the bleachers until the girls take the field, and then go and join Harry and Liam. He’s not sure why he decided to sign up, maybe because Liam did and he didn't want to be alone. Louis can’t remember. It was right after he bought—well. Anyway. Louis just kind of wants to go home. Or maybe down a field somewhere that he can practice his kicks. That’d be nice.

“Hey look, there’s Niall,” Liam says, pointing ahead of them.

“What’s he doing?” Harry asks and Louis tilts his head to the side, watching as Niall waves from atop the— “Is that the varsity cheer float?”

“I think it is,” Louis laughs. Niall is standing amongst a group of girls wearing football jerseys while he wears a cheerleading outfit, just like them. His uniform, like Louis’, fits him perfectly. “How does he always manage to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says, sounding a bit awestruck. “Hey, there’s Zayn.” Louis’ stomach drops at the declaration. He keeps his head down for a moment, just breathing in as he listens to Harry shout for Zayn. “Take our picture.”

“Oh no, please don’t do that,” Liam says and Louis silently agrees.

“Shut up, it’ll be fun. I’ll make sure it’s in the yearbook,” Harry mumbles, wrapping an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “Lou, you alright?”

Louis nods, smiling tight-lipped as he looks up. “Perfect, just preparing myself for the embarrassment of knowing that people’s children will be looking at these pictures for years to come,” he says. Harry laughs and Louis does his best to smile at Zayn’s camera without actually looking at Zayn.

It’s an impossible task, but Louis manages, quickly smiling before he drops his gaze back down to the floor. He doesn’t catch the look on Zayn’s face when he lowers the camera and he doesn’t want to either. Louis doesn’t know what to think or how to feel, he just knows that he’s still angry. Still a bit upset, even if he’s buried it deep. He’ll figure it out. But not now, not when he’s got other things to worry about, like keeping a smile on his face as they wave to the crowd. He can see his mom and dad and sisters sitting on the curb ahead. Louis focuses on them, crossing his eyes and pulling a face at them as he walks by.

+++

A hand stops Louis as he’s on his way to lunch. He stares at the pale fingers wrapped around his bicep and glances up to see Harry staring at him.

“Can I talk to you real quick?” Harry says, still not letting go of Louis’ arm. Louis takes it as a sign that he doesn’t have much say in the matter and that makes his stomach drop.

“Um, I guess,” Louis agrees, glancing around at the emptying hallway around them. “You gonna let go of me?”

Harry’s fingers ease away slowly, but the look on his face doesn’t. Louis’ not sure what it means. He’s—well, it’s Harry’s protective best friend look and that. Well. Louis feels like he should have expected this at some point. It’s been days since he spoke with Zayn or even properly sat down to figure out why he’s so upset and bothered and just—Louis should have known that someone was going to get involved in this that doesn’t belong in it, whether that’s Harry or Liam. Someone was going to wonder why Louis hasn’t mentioned Zayn recently.

“So what’s up?”

“I know that I’m not supposed to get involved in this,” Harry says carefully, like he’s been planning this speech for a while. “But what happened with you and Zayn?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why is he moping and why are you ignoring him?”

“I’m not ignoring him. I’m not,” Louis says, folding his arms over his chest defensively when Harry gives him a look. “We’re just not—“

“Talking?” Louis shrugs and Harry sighs. “I saw how you wouldn’t look at him at the parade. I tried asking him about it, but he brushed it off as nothing. It’s not nothing, though, is it?”

Louis shrugs once more, looking away from Harry to stare down at his feet. “It’s really not anything. We got into a fight, I guess. I don’t know.”

“Alright, what about?”

“Does it really matter?” Louis asks, staring back up at Harry. It really is none of Harry’s business and there is a reason that Zayn doesn’t want Harry involved in their…not relationship. If Zayn wanted Harry to know then he’d tell him himself. “Aren’t you like, sworn off asking me about Zayn?”

“I have a feeling you’re not going to tell him about this one, since you’re not talking and all that,” Harry retorts. “Now, tell me what happened.”

“I asked him to homecoming. That’s it. That’s what happened. I asked him, he said no. Apparently it’s not his thing,” Louis says, shrugging. “I don’t know. Whatever. Like, he doesn’t wanna go that’s fine, but like, he should have actually said that instead of saying some bullshit about how if he had a reason to go then he might.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asks, looking confused.

“I thought it meant he wanted a date, but yeah. Apparently not. You’ll have to ask him what it means.”

Harry looks at him for a moment, processing everything that Louis has told him. Louis doesn’t even care at this point if he believes him. He just wants to go to lunch. He wants to go lunch and eat and pretend that this conversation never happened. Not even just this conversation, but several conversations that have happened this week, but he can’t, so he’s forced to stand here in the middle of an empty school hallway while Harry decides if he believes Louis or not.

“Have you tried asking him the real reason why he doesn’t want to go with you? Or what that was supposed to mean?”

“He said that he doesn’t know and that it’s not his scene. Oh, and that we’re not even a couple so what does it matter that he doesn’t want to go with me.”

“He said that?” Louis nods. “All of it.”

“More or less.”

Harry nods and then sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Listen, I don’t know what really happened, but you need to get over yourself and talk to him. No, shut up for a second,” Harry says, holding a hand up to stop Louis from interrupting him. “I don’t care who did what. I really don’t, not when you’re both acting like this is something that’s way worse than it actually is. Just—take care of it, okay? I need to get to class, I’m already late.”

Harry walks off before Louis can say anything and argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. Or at least he doesn’t think he did anything wrong.

Louis sighs and drags his feet to the cafeteria. He’s not all that hungry, nor is he really in the mood for conversation with Liam and Niall, but—it’s fine. Louis will go about his day like he does every other day, where he doesn’t listen to a thing that Harry Styles tells him.

+++

Their homecoming game that night feels anticlimactic, in a way. It’s almost as if the other team is letting them win. They’re stumbling over the ball and tripping over their feet, throwing passes that fall directly into the arms of someone on Louis’ team. It’s almost sad to watch; Louis actually feels bad when he kicks the ball and it soars between the posts perfectly.

Walking off the field and back towards the bench, Louis sees Zayn. He knows, without a doubt, that Zayn just got done taking pictures of him and he wonders what that must be like. Honestly though, Louis wonders why Zayn didn’t just ask someone else to do it.

Louis does his best to ignore him for the rest of the game. Instead of focusing on how Zayn is there, just right there within shouting distance. The perfect length away for Louis to approach him and drag his body over Zayn’s like he likes to do. Instead of focusing on how he Zayn’s right there but he’s not talking to Louis, Louis keeps his eyes on the field, following the other players’ movements with a concentration he hasn’t had all season long.

In the end they win three touchdowns ahead of the other team and Louis wanders off the field alone. He changes in the locker room with the knowledge that he’ll leave, get into his car, and drive home. Just him. It’s Friday night, game night, and Louis is going home alone for the first time in a long time.

And for some reason, above all the other things that has happened this week, that fact punches Louis in the gut and leaves a heavy, sinking feeling deep inside him.

+++

The feeling doesn’t go away. Louis isn’t really surprised by that; it feels like a long time coming. Louis is surprised that it took days for him to stop trying to be numb towards the feelings inside of him. The feelings that have been there since the conversation with Zayn, the ones he’s been working to shove deep down.

It’s a futile effort, really, because Louis is human. And as a human, Louis is forced to deal with emotions; even the ones that he doesn’t like and the ones that he wishes weren’t there.

Louis lies in bed and thinks about the conversation that he had with Zayn. There’s an undercurrent of emotions to accompany his thoughts. The one thing Louis remembers is Zayn shouting out that they’re not a couple. It’s one of the only things about the conversation – besides the deep spike of hurt – that he fully remembers.

See the thing is Louis always knew that they were in that weird in-between. The one where no one, not even them, really knew the status of what was going on with them. But Louis had thought—well. In the grand scheme of things it doesn’t really matter what he had thought because it’s not what Zayn was thinking about them.

It feels like rejection the more that Louis thinks about it. But--

Mostly though, Louis thinks about Zayn.

And the longer that Louis thinks about Zayn and tries to remember that everything that was sad, he realizes that the look on Zayn’s face after practice during their fight, at the parade when he was taking their pictures, and all the other little moments that Louis caught a glimpse of him don’t match up.

And it’s—well. Louis has never claimed that he wasn’t an idiot.

+++

It takes eight phone calls and fifteen minutes to get to Zayn’s house. Louis calls the other boy during the trip, phone call after phone call until Zayn finally picks up.

“It’s two in the morning, Louis.”

“Come downstairs and open your front door,” Louis says and the other end of the line goes silent. He takes a step back and sees Zayn’s bedroom light flick on and then Zayn’s silhouette appears in the window. “Just come and open the door.” Louis hangs up and waits, watching as Zayn stays in the window a beat longer before he listens to what Louis said.

He’s dressed in his pajamas with a frown on his face as he pulls the door open and grabs Louis by his shirt collar, dragging him up the stairs and into his bedroom. Zayn peeks out his bedroom door before he closes it with a soft click, turning back to look at Louis.

“My dad is going to kill you if he sees you here.”

“Then he won’t see me,” Louis says easily enough. “We’ll be quiet.”

“What are you even doing here?”

“I wanted to say sorry,” Louis says bluntly. “For ignoring you and for you know, being an all around asshole to you these past couple days.”

Zayn is looking at him, his eyes trailing over Louis’ body, and Louis waits as patiently as he can for Zayn to figure out what to do next. He hadn’t thought about what to say on the way over, just that he needs to do what’s right and to pull his head out of his ass.

“I should have asked you flat out if you really wanted to go to homecoming instead of just assuming. And I shouldn’t have gotten mad when you said no,” Louis adds, because why isn’t Zayn saying anything? “I thought you were trying to hint that you wanted to go. And like, I don’t know. I guess I got a little too excited about it. But even still, I shouldn’t have ignored you for so long.”

“I thought you were ignoring me because I said we weren’t in a relationship,” Zayn says finally, clearing his throat like the words had been trapped there. “I didn’t think it was because of the dance.”

“Well, it was kind of both. Mostly the…couple thing.”

“It was just something to shout. I didn’t really mean it.” Zayn shrugs and an apologetic smile spreads across his face. “You were shouting stuff and I felt like I didn’t really have anything to say so I—Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“So you’re sorry and I’m sorry. Does that mean—like, are we good now?”

“If you want us to be, then yeah. Of course.”

Louis grins and then pounces, throwing himself on top of Zayn. It’s a daze of silent laughter and doing his best to kiss Zayn in a way that’ll make up for days of not kissing. With Zayn’s lips against his Louis wonders what there was ever to be mad about. He doesn’t need a dance or declarations, he just needs this, and it’s everything he wants.

“How long can I stay here before your parents figure out I’m here?” Louis asks, peppering Zayn’s jaw with kisses.

“Mm, depends. If we’re quiet then we’ve got a while. If you start making noise then not long.”

“I can keep quiet,” Louis promises, leaning up a bit to smile at Zayn. “Not that sure about you.”

“We’re not having sex when my entire family is home.”

“Boo, you’re always ruining my fun.”

“Sorry,” Zayn says, thumb brushing against Louis’ cheekbone. “What are you going to do with the homecoming tickets you bought?”

“Throw them away, I don’t know,” Louis says, rolling off Zayn to lie next to him. “Do you still not want to go?”

“We could, if you really wanted to.”

“But you don’t want to?”

Zayn shrugs. “I can think of several other ways I’d rather spend my Saturday night, but I’d be with you, so it wouldn’t be that bad.”

“But Zayn,” Louis sighs, laughing as he presses in closer to him “If you don’t want to go then we can figure out something else to do. It’s not the end of the world, honestly.”

“How about this,” Zayn says, wetting his lips. “I take you to homecoming and then, in a few months, you can come with me some place that I know you’re not really wanting to go to.”

“Like?”

“Comic-con.”

“Comic-con?” Louis repeats and Zayn shrugs unapologetically. Louis doesn’t blame him. Louis is asking him to put on fancy clothes and dance in a dark room with a bunch of people they don’t care about all night. And well, it’s a compromise. Isn’t that how these things are supposed to go? Give and take? “Alright, I can go out and be a nerd with you for one night.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Why do you have to say it like that?”

“Like what? It’s a term of endearment,” Louis clarifies, kissing Zayn quickly. “Some people say honey or sweetheart or baby, but not me. No, you’re my cute nerd.”

Zayn sighs and Louis leans in to kiss him once more, and as he does it, Louis feels the muscles in his body slowly begin to relax as all his worries the last few days melt away. 

++++++

The thing about deciding to go to a school dance less than twenty-four hours before it happens means that you’re not prepared in terms of clothing. Louis isn’t really worried about it, throwing on a pair of dark jeans and button up shirt. But while Louis isn’t worried, his mother is. She shakes her head at him as she rummages around through his closet and pulls out a suit jacket that he wore to his cousin’s wedding years ago.

Zayn looks just as casual as he does, black dress pants with a black button down.

They take pictures at Louis’ house with his sisters running around the front yard and pulling faces at them while their mothers take three hundred million pictures of them. Louis didn’t count how many times he saw his mother’s finger move, but he’s almost positive it was three hundred million times.

They leave Louis’ house as soon as Louis’ mom starts to cry, big fat tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as she kisses Louis on the cheek and tells him how much she loves him and how much he’s grown and how happy she is that he has Zayn as his date because he’s so nice and respectful and every other good adjective in the world that Louis didn’t have time to think about.

Admittedly, the dance is pretty lame. Louis doesn’t know why he thought that it would be fun or a good idea. He’s not going to voice that opinion out loud, because he has some dignity, thank you very much, but if it weren’t for Zayn, Louis would be bored out of his mind.

“I think Niall came to the dance with every cheerleader that goes to this school,” Zayn mutters in Louis’ ear, his body pressed against Louis’ side. “Either that or he’s managed to weasel his way into their dancing like he belongs.”

“Probably. Who knows,” Louis says, shaking his head. “The other day he was talking about how he was going to ask Amy and then later it was Barbara again and now…well, who knows what that kid is doing.”

“What about Liam?”

Louis snorts and turns Zayn’s head just a bit to the left so he can see where Liam and Sophia are. It’s disgusting, really. Who slow dances when there’s a song with an actual beat being played? Louis shakes his head at them.

“Liam is doing his best to act like Prince Charming.”

“Which is far more than you’re doing, by the way. Thanks for offering me a drink.”

“Don’t start with me. I asked you when we walked in if you wanted to get something to drink. You said no.”

“I wasn’t thirsty then,” Zayn says primly, picking at a bit of lint on Louis’ jacket. “And at any rate, I’m still not thirsty. I’m just trying to complain since I know you're going to do it to me in a few months.”

“I am not,” Louis protests, trying his best to act shocked. He really won’t. Well, he might complain a bit if the people in attendance act up or if the food is bad, or if they don’t serve any food at all. It really all depends. But he’s not going to do it on purpose. “You know that I love that you’re a nerd.”

“And you’re kind of tolerable for a jock, I suppose.”

“Please,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. He shifts his body around so that his stomach is pressed against Zayn’s, and then he wraps his arms around Zayn’s neck, Zayn’s hands settling at his waist. “You want to know something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“I read your little article in the school newspaper about me. The one after that game, the first one I played after we met.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“You were gushing about me. You said I won us the game and you talked about how great I was. I think you mentioned that I had a killer bod and that you really wish I were your boyfriend. I can’t remember all the details, but I know it covered those basic points.”

Zayn breathes out a laugh as he rolls his eyes, shaking his head at Louis. “I don’t remember writing that. Kind of sounds like a fever dream of yours. Are you sure that you’re feeling alright?”

“Shut up,” Louis laughs, swatting Zayn’s hands away when they move to touch his forehead. “You were obsessed with me. You thought I was a gift to the earth.”

“I thought you kicked a ball decently.”

“Admit that you think I’m tolerable.”

“Hardly.”

“No, c’mon,” Louis coaxes, mimicking the people around them and swaying his body with Zayn’s as the music slows down. “You can tell me. I’ll even admit that I was a bit crazy about you after we first met.”

Zayn smiles at him, arms wrapping a little tighter around his waist as he leans in to kiss him. It’s soft and sweet and it tells Louis everything that he needs to know about how Zayn feels about him, about how Zayn thinks about him, and it makes his stomach flutter.

Louis has always preferred kissing over talking, but when the song changes and the kiss ends, it feels like he’s floating away when Zayn presses his lips to his ear and says, “you’re a whole lot more than just tolerable, you know.”

It’s lame and it’s cheesy but Louis really doesn’t care. He’s got Zayn, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [tumblr](http://www.alnimawrites.tumblr.com) if you want to yell at me about this or anything :).


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